Are You With Me?
by byrhthelm
Summary: What happens when a man is asked to give up that which is a part of him?
1. Chapter 1

**Are You With Me?**

**By**

**Byrhthelm**

**Chapter One**

**Monday, June 4****th**** 2001  
1345hrs EDT  
National Naval Medical Centre  
Bethesda, MD  
(041745ZJun01)**

Lieutenant Elizabeth 'Skates' Hawkes chatted inconsequentially with Commander Loftness as slowly, in deference to her stiffening bruises, the two strolled along the hospital hallway toward Harm's room, until catching sight of their target leaning on a cane and hobbling painfully ahead of them.

Beth painfully quickened her pace and hailed him, "Commander!"

Commander Harm Rabb halted and slowly turned towards the sound of her voice, smiling as he took in the sight of her in her crisp summer whites, "Hey. Wow, you're looking good, Skates!"

Beth fought hard to stop herself blushing; as much as she might wish otherwise she knew he hadn't meant it as a compliment, but as a reference to her fading bruises, "Back atcha, sir!"

Harm's face lost its smile, as he transferred his attention to Beth's companion, "Commander Loftness," he greeted him gravely.

"Rabb," the helo pilot nodded his response.

"Commander, I understand that you personally violated every safety minimum in the book while you were searching for us." Harm's voice was censorious, but Beth heard the gratitude that underpinned his words.

"Love flying at zero/zero," Loftness replied, completely unabashed by the implied criticism in Harm's words.

Harm relaxed, letting his pretended venture into officialdom drop, "We owe you our lives."

"Turns out the aircraft we gave you had a hard deck landing. Subsequent inspection uncovered no damage, looks like she was hiding her secrets from us. You ever wanna come back for a visit I'll find you a Tomcat that works."

"Well, how about next week? I'm checking out of here in a couple of days."

Beth chuckled, Harm's reply was not unexpected to someone who knew him as well as his RIO, but the look she threw him contained a fair measure of exasperation as well as a mixture of wry amusement and pride in his spirit.

"We're in port."

"Damn."

"Good luck."

They shook hands and Harm asked "That's it?"

"Yup."

Pilot and RIO stood for a few moments as they watched the other officer walk away. His words having absolved them from any blame in the loss of the aircraft, although they both knew that they would shortly be summoned before an investigation panel.

Slowly, due to the cane, Harm turned to resume his previous walk. "So... I uh... I understand you jumped my bones in sickbay." he said wonderingly, his head turned towards her as he shuffled around in a 120 degree turn.

Beth returned him a stunned look, as her face paled, then seeing the imp of mischief in his laughing eyes, and realising that she couldn't hope to deny what had happened, in the face of the combined probable testimony of doctors, nurses and corpsmen, she could only put on a brave face and brazen it out. She grinned cheekily up at him and replied, "Rumour."

"Oh yeah?"

"Yeah. Believe me Hammer; if you had to be told, it was definitely rumour. If I had jumped your bones, conscious or unconscious, you'd never forget it!"

As soon as the words were out of her mouth Beth cringed inwardly and waited for the blast. If ever she had said anything that deserved a stern 'Red Light, Lieutenant!' that was it. She silently begged him not to take this any further and waited for his response.

Harm looked at her in some surprise. Sure, he had been flirting with her, but in their usual light-hearted manner, and he certainly hadn't been expecting to hear anything like that from Skates, but such a provocative response from her could be allowed this time. He was certainly still high on survivors' euphoria, and considering how terrified she'd been at having to eject over the ocean, and how much more keenly she must be feeling her survival, he was more than just slightly inclined to cut her a lot of slack. But, still, best bring this topic to an end ASAP!

Beth risked a further glance at his face. He wasn't smiling now, but neither did he look as if he was about to verbally flay her. She began to hope that he wasn't going to take any heed of her words and was relieved when her reading of him proved accurate when he changed the subject.

"Well, that was a hell of a ride we took, huh?"

Beth still didn't trust herself to reply to him and walked on beside him in silence. Harm, puzzled by her lack of reaction and trying to restore their customary bantering conversation attempted to provoke a light answer from her and added, "At least you went out with a bang..."

Beth bit her lip, knowing that what she was about to say would, at the very least, surprise him, "I'm returning to the Fleet, Harm."

After the way Beth had previously confessed her fears to him and now especially after her recent ordeal Harm was not just surprised, he was almost stunned, "What happened to the idea of shore duty?"

"The experience actually re-awakened my love for ship-board flying. Made me realize the danger is one of the reasons I do it." Beth knew that her ostensible reason was just a load of lying garbage, but, ever since they'd brought Harm - a dying Harm - into the sick-bay and she had exposed so much of her inner self in keeping him with the living - with her, and even though it seemed that he had no memory of events, she was all too well aware of the once-dormant emotions that episode had stirred to wakefulness in her.

"Well... what's your fiancé have to say about this?

"He supports me. Guess that's why he's my fiancé, and what about you, sir? What's next on your agenda?"

Harm grinned and gave a rueful shrug, "As soon as the medicos are happy, then it's back to JAG, and no doubt a chewing out from the Admiral!" he almost quipped.

"And what about Colonel MacKenzie?" Skates asked.

"Oh… I'll probably get a bigger chewing out from her than from the Admiral!" Harm grinned.

Skates' brow wrinkled in a frown, "Why would she…?"

"'Cause she postponed her wedding, and now she and Bug… uh… Brumby will have to make fresh arrangements," Harm explained.

Skates frowned again and gave a slight shake of her head, she had a feeling that somehow she wasn't getting the full story, but before she could comment further, Harm spoke again.

"It was good of Commander Loftness to let us know that he didn't hold us responsible for the loss of two four one."

Skates recognised the deliberate change of subject and nodded, "It was, sir, but just because he doesn't hold us responsible, it doesn't mean that the Air Accident Investigation Panel won't," she reminded him.

"True… but with Loftness' testimony about the state of the bird, I'm pretty confident that they won't pin it on me," Harm said in a cheerfully confident manner.

"H'mm… have you had any word on the convening order yet?" Skates asked.

Harm shook his head, "No, not yet…" Skates looked up at him, as he continued "But you shouldn't worry about it. There was nothing you, or I, could have done to keep that crate in the air another second. Once the controls went, we had no choice other than to punch out - and even then my seat malfunctioned."

"Yeah," Beth murmured, remembering the horror she had felt, even over her own fears, as she realised that she couldn't see any sign of Harm's 'chute that night.

But Harm hadn't finished reassuring her, "And anyway, you were the GIBS, it was my plane, my responsibility, and my decision as to whether or not or when we punched out. I distinctly remember hearing my voice, not yours, ordering 'eject! eject! eject!' so you've got nothing to worry about."

Harm looked down at the petite brunette and noted the still-troubled expression on her face, and once again made a swift change of subject, "Anyway, you didn't drag yourself all the way from your room just to hash over old times…" His voice took on a teasingly speculative tone, "So give… what exactly are you up to?"

Beth grinned, once again accepting Harm's swift change of subject, "I'm outta here, I got two weeks hospital leave, and I've finagled my uncle Elwas to fly me down to Florida tomorrow. The family's got a beach house on the Gulf Coast, my plan is to spend the next 10 to 12 days baking some of that Atlantic chill out of my body!"

Harm nodded, "Not a bad idea. Depending on how much leave I get, I'm thinking about heading out to California, spend some time with mom and Frank, figure I owe them for scaring them again!" He stopped for a rest, leaning on his cane, and looked Skates straight in the eye, "You gonna be okay flying again so soon?"

Beth shrugged, "I figure it's just like falling off a horse, the first thing you do is get right back on."

Remembering the fear that Skates had expressed even before their misadventure, and the fear that was evident in her voice during the leading to their ejection, Harm studied her once more and seeing the determination in her eyes and a hearing it in her voice his heart filled with admiration for, and yes, even pride in her courage.

"Well, you take care, Beth, and I'll see you on the flight line someday. And if I'm lucky enough to get back to the Henry for my next set of quals, you can bet your bottom dollar that I will be asking for you as my back seater!"

Skates blinked back sudden tears and swallowed to clear her throat, "Thanks, Hammer, you'll never know how much that means to me!" Then taking hold of his arm for balance she raised her tiptoes and planted a chaste kiss on his cheek.

Harm smiled and shook his head, "You realise they could throw you in the brig for that?"

Skates looked up at him, her eyes all mischief, "It was worth it!"

**Wednesday June 13****th****, 2001  
2032hrs EDT  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(110032ZJune01)**

On his release from hospital Renée drove him home, but fussed and hovered around him, suggesting tea, coffee, music, until he replied, "No, no thank you, I just need to rest!" and it was only with great difficulty that he managed not to snap at her, especially when she started questioning their relationship.

"Renée," he had asked impatiently, "Is this all about Mac, again?"

She looked startled, and then with a brave smile said, "You know, you're right. You do need to rest… I'll just go…"

"Renée, I'm not mad at you, I just need…"

"I know, I know…you need to rest, I'll call you later," and crossing to him she kissed him gently on the cheek, and with a bright, artificial, professional smile, said "Later," and let herself out of the apartment.

Harm watched the door close behind her before he slumped back against the couch's squabs and muttered "Damn!" as he let the aches and pains of the journey from Bethesda, as short as it was, ease. And while they did, he brooded over the bombshell Renée had sprung upon him in the car.

Surprisingly, Mac and Mic Brumby – or Bugme as he still privately referred to the Australian – had done nothing about re-arranging the wedding. And that of course was sufficient for Renée's latest attack of insecurity over the status of their relationship. But that surprise was as nothing when later that evening, a woebegone Mac had hammered on the door.

Harm stood there, his mouth hanging open, completely lost for words. Mac was in no better state but she did manage a tremulous, "Hey, welcome back."

Harm made an effort to recover from his surprise and taking in his partner's appearance said in a sympathetic tone, "Wow, you look miserable. Come on in!"

Mac had already been having second thoughts and shook her head, "Maybe not…" she murmured.

Harm shook his head more vigorously, "Mac, come on in!" he repeated.

Mac bit her lip and hesitated for a second before her shoulders drooped and she stepped across the threshold, saying as she did so, "He moved out."

"He did? Why? Harm asked as he closed the door, but in a voice that betrayed little, if any, surprise"

"I don't think he believes I love him," Mac said, her voice still carrying little animation

"Do you?" Harm asked, also in a curiously flat voice.

Mac sighed audibly, "Yes."

"Well, tell him." Harm suggested.

Mac hesitated for a few seconds, seemingly finding it difficult to meet Harm's eyes, before she finally looked up and faced him, "It's complicated," she replied

"Talk to me," Harm insisted.

Mac shook her head and made a tutting sound before she said, "This is a mistake, I don't know why I'm here…"

But this time before Harm could make any further attempt at persuading the Marine to speak they were interrupted by the shrill summons of his telephone. With a single-finger gesture for her to wait, Harm picked up the phone.

"Hello…"

"_Hey, Rabb, is Mac there_?"

Harm's eyebrows raised as he recognised Brumby's voice and with a sidelong look at Mac, he said, "Just a minute," and then to Mac, "It's for you…"

A slightly puzzled frown creased the Marine's face as she reached for the phone on Harm's hand, "Hello…?"

"_I was sitting here, wondering who you'd go to first… I have my answer…_"

"Give me your address, I'll be right there!" Mac declared.

"_No! I'm leaving. I've closed up the office, and I'm catching the first flight back to Australia_."

"You have to be on the other side of the world to think?" Mac protested.

"_I'm done thinking… 'Bye, beautiful…_" he whispered the last.

"Mic…" Mac started to say and then broke off to stare in disbelief at the handset as the dialling tone sounded in her ear. Replacing the handset Mac turned slowly towards Harm and said in a disbelieving voice, "He's leaving the country…"

"Why?"

"I gotta stop him!" Mac had said, ignoring Harm's question, as she had made for the door.

"Is it because you came here?" Harm persisted.

Mac paused in the open doorway, "He just can't get past this thing with us." She said in an exasperated voice, although with whom she was exasperated, herself, Mic or Harm, or just the entire clusterfuck even she didn't know.

"Maybe that's because we can't get past it." Harm replied gently.

Mac stared at him for about three seconds and then wordlessly turned and left, closing the door behind her.

A little later Harm lay on his bed, listening to the rain, a regular downpour, beating on his windows and reflecting on almost everything that had happened since he and Skates had punched out, and thinking what a mess his life was in. It was doubtful whether his knee could ever be repaired fully so that he could pass a flight physical, and he seemed to be stuck in a relationship with Renée – a relationship that was going nowhere, and one that he resolved he would end soon… He was honest enough with himself to acknowledge that his decision was triggered in part by Brumby's decision to return to Australia, leaving Mac on her own once again, or. at least, he again acknowledged that he was selfish enough to hope for that. But even so, he braced himself for disappointment, preparing himself for the news that Mac had reached Brumby in time and had managed to persuade the stiff-necked former RAN officer to return to DC with her and that the wedding could go ahead.

His gloomy thoughts were interrupted by the summons of the telephone on his nightstand. He let it ring four times before he had steeled himself to pick up, and even the it was only with reluctance that he lifted the handset to his ear.

"Hello…"

"_He's gone… he wouldn't even speak to me…_" Mac's tear-filled voice sounded in his ear, ending in an audible sob.

Harm felt a stab of jubilation at the news, and half-disgusted with his own reaction he forced his voice to remain calm and soothing, "Hey… hey… don't blame yourself for this. Brumby has always acted impulsively, it was just a matter of time…"

"_Wha… what are you saying_?" Mac sobbed.

"This isn't going to make it hurt any less, but it's better now than six months into the marriage."

"_Okay… I'm hanging up now_!" Mac declared, a tinge of anger mixing with the heartbreak in her voice.

"Mac, where are you going?"

"_I don't know…"_ she sniffled.

"Come to me," Harm urged.

"_Why_?"

"So we can talk."

"_We already talked_," she objected.

"Don't argue with me." Harm had persisted.

"_I need a better reason_!"

"You know the reason…" Harm had told her, only to be greeted by silence. "Mac?"

"_I'm here_," she answered.

"I'm waiting," Harm told her softly.

The knock on his door came much quicker than he had expected and half-puzzled and half-angered at the thought that Mac had been driving recklessly he open the door to see instead a soaking wet, dishevelled, distraught to the point of hysteria and tear-stained Renée.

"Renée?" he asked his voice filled with concern. He may have intended ending the relationship as soon as he could, but he was constitutionally unable not to respond to her distress.

"Harm… My daddy died…" she wailed.

Almost helplessly, Harm stepped back to allow Renée to enter, her arms going around his neck almost as soon as she stepped through the door. Automatically his arms went around for support and he led her towards the couch, where sitting, and bringing her with him, he let her cry on his chest while he rubbed soothing circles on her back and promised that he would see her through this difficult time ,until she fell asleep from exhaustion. Gently disengaging his arms from around her, and hers from himself, he carefully lifted her legs onto the couch and draped the Afghan throw over her to let her recuperate while she slept, and then he picked up the phone, "Hello… American Airways? I need to book two seats on the first available flight tomorrow to Minneapolis..."

He had scarcely finished making arrangements for them both to attend the funeral when the anticipated knock came art his door. With a heavy heart he crossed the room to open the door to reveal a damp Mac, the beginnings of a smile on her lips.

Harm swallowed nervously and then speaking very quietly said, "Mac, Renée's father died suddenly. Heart failure; she only just got here." He opened the door wider to allow Mac to see the exhausted and tear-stained Renée asleep on the couch.

"We can't do this now… " Harm continued, "And I promised I'd fly back with her, I should be gone a couple of days. Sorry."

Mac's heart sunk like a stone. First Mic had abandoned her, and now Harm, her best friend, her rock, her anchor was leaving her, just after his words on the phone had seemed to promise so much. Fighting down words of recrimination, but unable to hide the hurt and disappointment in her eyes she gulped and answered, "Don't be. You have to go."

"I'll call you when we land," Harm offered.

"No…" Mac shook her head and whispered, "Don't do that to her… She needs you to give her your full attention."

"And what about you?"

"I'll be okay," Mac replied, and then suggested, "When you get back…"

Renée gave a murmur in her sleep and the eyes of both Harm and Mac were drawn to her for a few seconds and then their eyes met again. Mac managed a half-smile as she stepped back before turning towards the elevator, while Harm stood in the doorway waiting until she had gone from his sight before he sighed deeply and closed the door.

**Monday June 18****th****, 2001  
2011hrs EDT  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(200011ZJun01)**

Harm was reeling from a combination of physical and emotional fatigue when he returned home from Minneapolis. The physical tiredness was easily explained by his still-not-yet fully recovered state after his hypothermia and the ingestion of copious amounts of sea water, both of which had left him with temporarily impaired lung functions exacerbated by the stress of flying to Minnesota and back in the space of five days, and the emotional tiredness was a result of coping with Renée's – and to a less degree her family's – grief. Breathing a sigh that was equal parts relief and exasperation he almost slammed the door behind him, hanging his garment bag on the hook on the back of the door and dropping his suitcase carelessly on the floor.

For a second he debated whether he needed coffee and something to eat first, but decided that his overriding imperative was to call Mac.

Ten minutes later he sat, frowning at his telephone, Mac's house phone had gone unanswered, not even switching to her answering machine after a dozen rings, while her cell phone advised him that it was temporarily out of service or had been switched off, and advised him to try again later.

Levering himself off of the couch and limping heavily, he made his way through to the kitchen area and set the coffee brewing while he investigated the contents of his fridge and freezer, before giving that idea up as a bad job, and hitching a hip onto one of the stools at the kitchen island he drummed his fingers on the surface while he waited for the coffee to finish brewing.

Once he'd poured his mug of coffee he returned to the couch and carefully lowered himself into the seat before leaning forward to take a sip of the strong, and unusually for him, sweet brew before picking up the phone again and re-dialling both of Mac's numbers.

Five minutes later he sat back the frown on his face gradually morphing into a somewhat cynical smile into which was mixed a good cupful of self-deprecation, "Ah well," he said aloud, "they do say that repeating the same action and hoping for a different outcome is a sign of insanity…"

The draining of the last of the coffee in his mug was the precursor to his dialling of another number; this time the phone at the other end was picked up after four rings.

"_Hello_?"

"Hey, Harriet? This is Harm, sorry to be calling at this time of the evening. If it's inconvenient, I can all back later?"

"_Commander! It's good to hear your voice again_!" Harriet Sims own voice left little doubt that she was very pleased to hear from him again as she continued, "_The time is no problem, sir! Little AJ's fast asleep, and we switch the phone to buzz so it won't disturb him. How are you, sir? And how's Miss Petersen?_"

"Miss Petersen's okay, all things considered Harriet, she's staying on at home for a few days to help her mom… I'm fine, a little tired from the trip, but I have a few days left of my leave, so I'm going to take it easy… but Harriet, the reason I called – not that it isn't a pleasure to speak with you – but I was wondering is Mac with you? I've tried both her numbers, and there's no reply from either of them, and that's not like her…"

He was surprised when there was no answer from the bubbly blonde Lieutenant, "Harriet?" he asked, thinking for a second that maybe they had become disconnected.

"_Yes, sir… I'm here…"_ she replied hesitantly.

"Yes, I know, Harriet…" Harm tried to put a smile into his voice. For some reason the JAG Admin Officer suddenly sounded nervous, "But is Mac?"

"_No… no, sir… she's not… Didn't she tell you sir_?"

"Tell me what, Harriet?" Harm's stomach sank, he knew, he just knew that Harriet was about to tell him that Mac had gone chasing after Brumby, gone to Australia.

"_Uh… she's gone TAD to the Guadalcanal, sir…"_ Harriet's voice trailed off uncertainly.

Harm felt a wave of relief wash over him, "Oh… On an investigation, is she? Did she give you any idea as to when she'd be back?"

Once again there was a long pause from Harriet, and Harm was beginning to feel uneasy again, "Harriet?"

"_Uh… it's not an investigation, sir. She's gone as SJA to 1 MEU, sir. It's a six month tour, sir…_" Harriet said miserably.

It was Harm's turn to be silent as he digested the news, "I see…" he said at last.

"_I'm sure she's okay, sir!_" Harriet blurted out, "_She's surrounded by hundreds of Marines, and she's got the Gunny to watch her back!_"

"Yeah… yeah, I'm sure…" Harm said distractedly, "Thank you, Harriet… I'll… I'll come over one evening… in a couple of days… I have a present for my Godson," he added trying to lighten the mood.

"_Of course, sir_!" Harriet almost gushed in relief, "_You know that you're welcome at any time_!"

"Yes, thank you, Harriet, I know that," Harm said trying to sound positive.

"_Good_!" Harm could hear the smile in Harriet's voice, "_But if there's nothing else, sir_?"

"No… nothing else for this evening, Harriet. Give my regards to Bud and my love to little AJ, Goodnight."

"_Goodnight, sir… and… and try not to worry too much, sir…_"

"I'll try Harriet. Goodnight," Harm said quietly as he placed the phone back on its rest and then slumped forward, his elbows on his knees and his head in his hands.

**Monday June 18****th****, 2001  
2103hrs EDT  
The Roberts' Residence  
73 West Rosemount Ave  
Alexandria, VA  
(180103ZJun01)**

Harriet Sims put the phone down, a troubled look on her face, "Oh… Mac… what have you done now…" she sighed, but before she could take that train of thought any further she was interrupted by Bud, who having bathed and put little AJ to bed, had spent the past hour in his den cum office, looking over his opening statement for the DOD trial he was defending tomorrow.

"Oh… That was Commander Rabb, just letting us know that he's back from Minnesota, and that he'll be coming over in the next few days!" She managed a fondly exasperated expression, "He says he's got a new present for AJ! I bet it's another of his damned airplanes!"

"That's one bet I won't take you up on!" Bud grinned, "But how about I make us both a hot chocolate, and then maybe we could manage an early night?" he suggested, waggling his eyebrows.

Harriet blushed, "Yes, I think I'd like that!" she smiled.

**Saturday June 23****rd, ****2001  
1912hrs EDT  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4th Street NE, Washington DC  
(232312ZJun01)**

Harm stepped back from the kitchen sink wincing a little as he absent-mindedly put his full weight on his still-healing knee. His pained expression followed swiftly by a frown as he limped across to the couch and sitting down, gently massaged his right leg. He was becoming concerned at the rate the knee injury was repairing itself, he didn't particularly want to undergo a surgical procedure, that would almost certainly mean the permanent loss of his flight status, but he need the knee to heal sufficiently in order to pass a flight physical examination before he'd be allowed back into the air.

At a loose end, he had become accustomed to spending weekends in Renée's company, but she had called mid-week to say that she was extending her stay at her mother's place, and so for a while he brooded over the chances of his eventual return to flight status and then giving it up as an unprofitable waste of time he sat undecided as to whether to listen to some music, try to pick out a few tunes on his own guitar, or… and here he cracked his first smile in days… boot up the computer and login to the website on which Bud had incautiously let slip he posted his science fiction stories.

He had just about decided on a combination of options one and three when the knock came at the door. Raising his eyebrows in mild surprise – he wasn't expecting callers this evening, he grabbed his cane and limped across to the door, squinting through the Judas hole before throwing it open with a grin on his face.

"Skates! Come on in!" he invited, the pleasure of seeing his friend swamping the negative feelings he'd had all day, "And this is?" he nodded to the tall, sandy-haired man who stood at the petite RIO's shoulder.

Skates reached out to take her companion's hand on her own as she stepped into the apartment, "Hey, Hammer, howya doin'? this is Jason Mitchell… my fiancé."

"Come on in, come on in!" Harm grinned, "Take a pew… can I get you anything to drink? Beer, juice, wine, soda, water… there's fresh… well, nearly fresh coffee?"

Skates chuckled as she and Jason settled themselves on the couch, "I'm tonight's designated driver, so a soda would do me, but if you guys want a beer, then don't let me stop you!"

"Soda it is! Tonic water with ice and a twist? Jason?"

"Uh… a beer for me, please, sir," he replied.

"Sir?" Harm queried

"You do have a step on me," the younger man pointed out.

"Oh… yeah… that's right… Beth told me you were part of the CNO's office. What do you do in there?" Harm asked as he returned to the living area.

"Op plans, sir," Lieutenant Commander Mitchell replied, as Harm twisted off the cap of a beer and passed it to him.

"Okay… let's see…" Harm said ruminatively, "I don't work at the fumble farm, so the odds of us ever meeting in uniform are pretty slim… and as far as that goes, we're not in uniform now… we're off duty… you're in my apartment, so why don't we dispense with protocol for the evening at least. And the same goes for you, Miss Hawkes!" he finished with a grin as he raised his beer in a silent toast.

"Hell, I wasn't going to go all formal anyhow!" Skates grinned, "I figure that if Hammer is good enough for the ready room then it's good enough for the living room!"

"Well argued, counsellor!" Harm grinned, but then his grin faded "But what are you doing here, Skates… isn't your leave finished?"

"My hospital leave sure is, but I have to report to Bethesda on Monday for a flight physical, and the CAG was good enough to let me have a weekend pass. The Henry is still alongside at Norfolk, and all our birds are up at Andrews…"

"Ah…" Harm nodded in acknowledgement, and it seemed to the brunette that a shadow passed over his face.

"Do… do you ever miss it, Hammer?" she asked tentatively.

"Miss what? Flying? Miss everything stinking of jet fuel, the catapults banging all day and all night, pitching decks, being shot off the bow, the scream of engines at peak revs when they trap, a rack that's at least four inches too short for me, six months of mystery meat and canned and frozen veggies?" Harm took a sip from his beer, "Hell, yeah, I miss it!"

Beth grinned widely and Jason managed to smile although Harm didn't miss the worried look he shot at Beth.

In an effort to keep the atmosphere light Harm asked, "So where and how did you two meet?"

Jason looked across at Beth, who shrugged and said, "You tell him, and I'll put you right when you get it wrong!"

"Never happen!" Jason grinned and took Beth's hand in his, "We were both serving on the Coral Sea… Beth had recently joined her squadron, and I was a DO in Surface Warfare, at that time I was commanding a watch in the CIC, so I had some contact with the flyers. Something had upset Beth one morning and she came storming into the wardroom and cannoned right into me, sent me, my breakfast, and my coffee flying. I… uh… cautioned her about flying through doors, and she then tore me a new one. Something about the way she lit into me appealed to my sense of humour, and I made a determined effort to get to know her. It took me four months to get through her barriers, and then at the end of that deployment, I PCSd to DC so I asked her out on a date, that was four years ago…" he smiled at Beth.

Beth took a sip of her tonic water, and chuckled, "He nearly got it right, 'cept that I didn't storm into the wardroom, I entered in a ladylike manner, and I didn't run into him – he backed into me, wasn't looking where he was going, and it was me had to warn him about keeping a three-sixty degree watch!"

Then she sobered, "But yeah, it was four years ago… and we've been dating ever since. We got engaged last year and we were going to wait until I finished this tour before we thought about setting a date. But…" she gulped, "After our swim, Jason and I decided it would be dumb to waste any more time, when either one of us might not be here tomorrow, so we've actually come here tonight to tell you that we're getting married on July 28th, and I'd… uh… we'd very much like it if you could attend…" she dipped her hand into her purse and pulled out a lavender envelope.

"The ceremony will be here in DC… so you won't have to travel… and…"

Harm shook his head as a huge grin spread over his face, "Beth, you don't have to beg, entice or bribe me, I shall be delighted to go to your wedding! Congratulations to the pair of you!"

Beth's answering grin was just as broad, "Great! We'll take that as an acceptance then! Now… have you still got that Uckers set? If so, prepare for an eight-piece dicking!"

"Yeah?" Harm scoffed as he pulled himself to his feet and limped across to the closet, where he pulled the game from the top shelf, "Remember the last time you threatened that? Who was it ended up with an eight-piece at home?"

"I did not!" Beth exclaimed indignantly.

"No? Then why is your signature scrawled across the back of the board!" Harm scoffed.

"Be warned, Hammer, revenge is sweet!" Beth muttered darkly while Jason looked on in bemused amusement.

**Friday, July 20****th****, 2001  
0842hrs IOT  
USS Guadalcanal  
The Indian Ocean  
(171242ZJul01)**

Harm had returned to duty on Monday June 25th, none the wiser as to Mac's reasons for taking on an extended TAD. Twice he had managed shore to ship calls to the Guadalcanal's legal office, both times being informed that Colonel MacKenzie was out of the office. His visit to the Roberts' home had afforded him an opportunity to play with his Godson, who had gleefully recognised his 'Unca Harm' and demanded to 'Play Airplane!' but had afforded him little else other than one of Harriet's superb home-cooked dinners. Neither Harriet nor Bud had been able to shed any light as to why Mac had gone TAD, other than she'd had an interview with the Admiral and emerged from his office with the beginnings of a smile on her face – the first one they had seen since they had heard the news of Harm's crash – and a cheerful, "Gunny, pack your sea-bag!"

The only information he had gleaned had been courtesy of Lieutenant Loren Singer who, with a sympathetic smile that Harm instantly distrusted, volunteered the information that, "I believe Colonel MacKenzie volunteered for the assignment, sir."

Harm had glared at the woman believing that she had spoken only to rub salt into his wounds, but her words, tone and bearing left him nothing into which to fasten that belief.

Harm had finally managed to get through to Mac on her satellite phone, but the conversation had been eminently unsatisfactory. She had stonewalled and deflected his questions, and after a very short conversation pleaded pressure of work, but had at least, in response to his urgings promised to call him back. The connection broken, Harm had frowned both disappointment and disbelief; he disliked the idea that Mac had lied to him, but in his innermost heart was convinced that she was neither busy, nor that she would return his call.

Seemingly the only bright spot in Harm's life was the arrival at JG HQ of hi old academy room-mate and good friend Sturgis Turner. The twenty years since Harm had departed for flight school and Sturgis had gone to be a bubblehead dissolved in a flash and the two had quickly taken up a schedule of weekly one on one basketball games and a couple of cold beers and it wasn't long before Sturgis had volunteered to help Harm restore a classic corvette in order to replace the one stolen two years previously.

Then had come the present case. A Marine Corps Major, Major Warren Lasley, had been charged with Dereliction of Duty and Negligent Homicide, and by order of the convening authority, the skipper of the Guadalcanal, to be tried by Special Court Martial aboard the ship. Mac as SJA was to prosecute, but defense counsel was needed, and Harm had lobbied hard for the assignment, his third or fourth attempt to get out to the Indian Ocean to see Mac and to try talking with her, to find out what was going on in her head.

The whole thing is turning out to be a disaster. First, it hadn't helped his case with Mac, when he turned up unexpectedly, as a completely unwelcome surprise just as she formally charged Major Lasley. To say that Harm got the feeling that he was the last person that Mac wanted to see would be an understatement. And her demeanour from that moment on couldn't have made her feelings more clear.

Then Major Lasley had been unhappy with Harm's trial strategy and had asked for a civilian attorney. Harm still needed to be present to guide Larry Kalinski through the vagaries of Court Martial procedures and soon discovered that the civilian attorney was loud-mouthed, opinionated and certain that he could manipulate a military court in whatever manner he pleased. He dismissed all of Harm's concerns about the case in a decidedly off-hand, not to say cavalier manner, and treated him almost as a legal-aide, despite Harm's second-chair status.

By the end of the first day in court, Harm had had enough and after a hasty swallow of coffee in the ward room, he could no longer contain his impatience and set out to find Mac's cabin cum legal office.

After a few false starts he finally found the object of his search and rapping on the bulkhead he smiled and asked, "Can I come in?"

Mac looked up, slightly surprised, from the document she was working on and offered a somewhat stiff half-smile, "Sure…"

Harm took two paces across the cabin until he stood with his back with a double bunk, and due to the close confines of the space almost looming over Mac as she sat at her computer. "Do you know why I requested this assignment?" he asked.

"No," Mac replied, she was already feeling crowded by his presence and she wasn't sure she wanted to know just why her partner had requested this detail.

"Because I need to talk to you, and I knew that you weren't going to call me back," Harm virtually accused her before continuing in a more puzzled tone, " I don't get it, Mac, when Brumby left you asked for my help"

"I'm handling it."

"Halfway around the world," Harm replied in as a relaxed manner as he could, trying to maintain a smile while the equally tried to keep anger and hurt out of his voice.

"It seemed like the right thing to do," Mac's tone was replete with a plea for understanding. But Harm gave a brief shake of his head.

"You're running, Mac, what's going on?"

Max hands fluttered in a vague gesture "Nothing," she protested.

Again Harm gave that barely visible shake of his head, "Let me in, tell me what you're feeling," he persisted.

Mac looked up, "Pressured… Why… why are you doing this?"

Harm was feeling increasingly puzzled, to him Mac's decision to ask for this TAD, and now her obfuscation and deflections were becoming increasingly enigmatic. "Because I said I would," he replied.

Mac could feel her anger rising, she had left DC in order to avoid precisely this sort of confrontation, and now increasingly uncomfortable at Harm's standing over her she pushed her chair back and stood, arms folded across her chest "Wait a minute, you are talking to me now because you're feeling guilty about not doing it then?"

Harm looked at her in blank astonishment for a second, "What? You're angry at me for that? Renée's father had just died!" He just didn't get this, Mac had appeared to understand Renée's need for him back in DC and now she was trying to lay a guilt trip on him. What sort of louse did she think he ought to have been, by turning his back on his distraught girlfriend at such a time.

"And if he hadn't?" Mac demanded.

"We would have talked," Harm replied earnestly.

"About what?" Mac wanted to know.

Harm's eyebrows rose towards his hairline. He knew Mac wasn't stupid, hell, she was one of the most intelligent people he knew, but by asking the questions she was, she was a wrong footing him at every turn. "About us."

"That's why I left, Harm. There is no us; there's you and Renée. What are you willing to give up to have me? Mic gave up the Navy and his country, would you sacrifice your girlfriend?"

"What? Are you testing me?" Harm said in disbelief.

"Well, would you?" Mac insisted.

Harm hesitated for a few painful seconds, "What if I did?"

"Answer the question!"

"As long as you answer mine!" Harm objected.

"Hah! I'm so sick of this dance!" Mac spat out, and turned towards the door.

Harm took two seconds to gather his thoughts, "Let's just make this a level playing field," he suggested. "First, Mic didn't resign from the Australian Navy, he reserved his commission, kept it as a fallback position. And secondly, yes, I not only would give up Renée, but I had, even before the events of that evening decided that our relationship wasn't going anywhere, and if her father hadn't died that day… Well, let's just say that she would have been history the following day."

Harm's news about Mic's naval status was like a slap in the face is far as Mac was concerned. She went white with anger, and said, "You expect me to believe that, about Renée?"

Harm looked at her with something very much akin to shock written large on his face, "Mac! I have never lied to you!"

Mac had the grace to blush, "No, no you haven't. I shouldn't have said that, but if you'd already decided that you had no future with Renée, well, that's more or less invalidates my question. So," her voice resumed its angry edge, "what else would you give up? Would you give up flying?"

Harm stood in stunned silence, of all people, Mac knew the best just how much flying an F-fourteen meant to him, and he was rendered speechless that she would use that particular weapon against him. Turning away from her so that she wouldn't see the hurt and disappointment on his face, he swallowed, hard three times before he could find his voice. "Yes," he finally gritted out, "I would give up flying."

His words were greeted by silence, and he turned back to face her, needing see Mac's reaction, only to find that she had slipped out of the cabin and into the passageway while his back was turned, and that he had spoken to an empty space.

He spun on his heel and lunged through the doorway, looking left and right for a glimpse of his partner. There was no sign of her, but on instinct he turned to his left and forged down the passageway, side-stepping members of the Guadalcanal's crew and embarked Marines as he did so until he reached the open compartment with companionways leading to upper and lower decks, breathing a sigh of relief as he spied Mac, and swallowing his disappointment as he realised that she was now in conversation with Gunnery Sergeant Galindez, making any resumption of personal matters out of the question.

He swallowed his disappointment, and with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes, exclaimed, "Gunny! Good to see you!"

"You too, sir!" Victor Galindez replied with a beaming smile of his own, and then as he picked up on the tension between the two officers, his smile faded and he glanced anxiously from one to the other.

Harm stared at Mac as he tried to silently communicate his need to continue the conversation from which she had run, but her face assumed a mask-like impassiveness. "If you'll excuse us, Commander, I need to speak with the Gunny about the case, so…"

Biting back his disappointment, Harm could only say, "Of course, Colonel. I'll see you in court tomorrow. Good night Colonel, Gunny…" and with a nod to each he turned on his heel and shouldering his way through the crowded passageway he made his solitary way back to his temporary cabin to start work on his defence strategy.

The fallout from that conversation left its mark by generating a considerable amount of personal tension between the two JAGs throughout the trial, and every attempt by Harm at the end of each day's business to resolve matters with Mac was stymied by her pointed avoidance of him.

Now, the trial over, he waited on the flight deck to board the CH-53 Sea Stallion would take him and Kalinski to the USS Coral Sea, and the COD that would take him to Diego Garcia on the first leg of his journey back to DC, and while he waited he scanned the Guadalcanal's upper works, searching in vain for a sight of Mac wishing him farewell.

**Saturday July 28****th**** 2001  
1400hrs EDT  
Christ Episcopal Church  
107 S Washington St  
Rockville, MD  
(281800ZJul01)**

Harm had, as was only right, fitting and proper, replied formally to Beth and Jason's wedding invitation, indicating that he would be attending without the "plus one" of the invitation.

Three days later, he had just finished serving up his vegetable stir-fry dinner, when his house phone rang, picking up the cordless handset he tucked it into his shoulder holding it in position with the side of his face, "Rabb."

"_Hey, Hammer, howyah doin'_?"

Despite the mood of despondency that had held him in its grip since his return from the Guadalcanal, Harm felt the corners of his mouth lift in a weak grin, at the cheerful note in the caller's voice.

"Pretty good, and you, Skates?"

"_Yeah, I'm pretty good, but…_" she hesitated slightly, "_umm… I was a bit surprised though to see that you're not bringing Renée, or Colonel MacKenzie to the wedding…_" And although her words were not phrased as a question the rising inflection at the end of the sentence suggested a certain degree of curiosity.

Harm drew a silent breath, despite his friendship with Skates he wasn't about to reveal his recent dealings and his present confusion over the status of his friendship with Mac, so he contented himself with a fairly brusque "Renée and I aren't together anymore, and Mac's TAD to the Indian Ocean, and she's not scheduled to be back until November."

" _Oh, Harm, I'm sorry…"_ Once again she hesitated for a couple of seconds, "_but… If that's the case then would you have any great objections to helping me out here_?"

Harm's natural instinct was to respond immediately with an "of course" but for some reason he allowed a note of caution into his voice, "Just how?"

"_Umm… One of my friends, a very good friend, someone I went through RIO School with is also coming stag, and I thought maybe you could sort of act as each other's escort for the day…_"

Harm frowned, "I'm not so sure about that, Skates, I'm still recovering from… from… being dumped by Renée…" he left the end of the sentence hanging.

"_Renée dumped you? The woman's certifiable_!"

Harm couldn't help but smile at the indignation and vehemence in Skate's voice, and when he spoke she could hear the amusement in his voice, "'Fraid so, she dumped me for her high school sweetheart, Cyrus something or other, a mortician."

Harm was nearly deafened by the shout of laughter in his ear, "_A mortician? Wow! After dating you, she dumped you for a mortician? Talk about being downwardly mobile!_"

"Yeah, it does have its comedic side," Harm agreed, and once again Beth heard the smile in his voice.

"_So… No real broken heart then, so you will help me out_?"

"I dunno Beth, I mean it's… It wouldn't seem right you fixing me up with a date."

"_Oh, it's not a date_!" Beth denied, "_Melanie's married, very happily married, her husband is deployed though, he's a Lieutenant Commander serving in the Yorktown, and as you and Mel are the only two unaccompanied guests, it just sort of made sense that…_"

Harm frowned interrupted, "So it's just a matter of being an official escort, fetching her drinks holding her chair, that sort of thing?" he asked.

"_That's it, exactly_!" Beth agreed, and then a thought struck her, "_in fact, you might know her, she's with the Howlers at Miramar, and didn't you tell me you investigated a couple of mishaps out there with them?_"

"Yeah, yeah I did…" Harm drew a deep, shuddering breath as he remembered the two mishaps, both of which involved the deaths of friends, first Luke Pendry, and then later his wing man, Tess McKee. Shaking off the melancholy, he found himself, to his surprise, agreeing to Beth's request, "Okay, I'll play nice with the lady for the day…"

"_Thanks, Hammer, I knew I could count on you_!"

"Flattery will get you almost anything!" Harm grinned.

"_You wish_!" Beth grinned, but then her voice became serious, "_But, really, thanks Hammer." _

So now, Harm found himself sharing a church pew with a tall, willowy auburn-haired woman of about the same age as skates, neatly but unostentatiously dressed in a pale-green lightweight suit. Melanie Fairchild turned out to be a no-nonsense, matter of fact young woman, who on first meeting Harm had written off as being sensible the point of being over-serious, but that was before they exchanged more than a few words and he had caught on to her underlying sense of humour that had been betrayed by the laughter lurking in her eyes.

But at the moment the attention of all was fixed on the two figures standing before the altar. Jason in his Summer Dress Whites, complete with medals, and Skates in a high necked, long-sleeved, white wedding dress. It was a little difficult for anybody in the same row as Harm and Melanie, or behind them to make out any details, as the front rows of pews were taken up by the massed ranks of Beth's huge family. Not only had her parents attended the wedding, but four of her seven sisters and her three brothers, together with their spouses and what seemed to be an entire squadron of children, had also made the trek to DC, most of them had travelled up from Florida, but one brother and two sisters had travelled clear across the continent from the West coast, one each from Washington State, Oregon and California.

But that wasn't the end of it. Five out of Beth's eight uncles, three from her mother's – the Turkish side – of the family, and two of her father's brothers from the Native American moiety, and three of her five aunts, all from her mother's family, with spouses and families had also made it to DC the wedding.,

Beth's father, John Hawkes, was a deeply-tanned, dignified man of about five foot eleven, maybe six foot, Harm judged, his slightly darker complexion and the bone structure of his face betraying his heritage. Although reserved to the point of taciturnity, Harm noted the softening of his expression each time his gaze fell on a member of his family, and the way at the reception his grandchildren swarmed him was ample proof as far as Harm was concerned of his gentle, inner nature.

Beth's mother Deniz, was a totally different proposition. If Beth was petite, Deniz Hawkes was tiny, only a fraction over five feet tall and was slim to the point of thinness, and despite her age exhibited an air wiry toughness. On being introduced to Harm at the reception she had fixed him in place with a penetrating, dark-eyed stair before she relaxed and let her mouth take on the curve of a smile that was reflected in her eyes, "So… you are the one my daughter goes swimming with?" she challenged.

"Uh… yes, ma'am," Harm replied, not sure of just what was coming down the pike.

"She tells me that it was your promise to stay with her that kept her alive out there…"

Harm's expression grew bleak, "I owe both you and she an apology for that ma'am. I failed to keep that promise, and I don't generally make promises that I don't intend to keep."

Deniz Hawkes looked searchingly into his eyes, and then nodded once, as If she had reached a decision. "From what Elizabeth tells me, it was a pretty rough night out there. Now, I've never been in a storm at sea, but some of my husband's family live in Oklahoma, and I have seen the power of nature in tornadoes, and I have a pretty shrewd idea that there was nothing you could have done out there to overcome wind and waves, but it was her belief in your words that kept my little girl fighting out there. And for that I thank you."

Harm reddened, "Ma'am, it's the other way 'round. When they go me back aboard the carrier, I was night frozen to death and it didn't look like I was going to make it; it was your Elizabeth who called me back… she called me back to fulfil that promise. I don't fully understand what happened that night in sick quarters, but I do know that I owe Beth my life, and for that I can never thank her enough!"

"So… you saved each other then…" Deniz Hawkes eyes twinkled, "My Elizabeth was right, you are a formidable team!" She laughed lightly when Harm's cheeks reddened under the warmth of her praise, and reaching up, she patted him lightly on the upper arm, "Go now, go, and enjoy the party!"

"Aye, aye, ma'am!" Harm replied.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

**Wednesday, September 12, 2001  
1000hrs EDT  
Raptors' Squadron Ready Room and Office  
Joint Air Facility  
Andrews Air Force Base, MD  
(121600ZSep01)**

Like every other military base in the CONUS, and for all Beth Hawkes-Mitchell knew, worldwide, Andrews AFB had gone into lock-down as soon as the scope and nature of yesterday's attacks had become known. But Beth didn't care about the rest of the world, or even the rest of the CONUS; she hadn't been able to contact Jason since yesterday morning. The lines to the Pentagon had been put out of commission by the attack, and the cell-phone network had been unable to cope with the dramatic increase in traffic as family and friends had tried to contact each other in the aftermath of the horror of the Twin Towers and the Pentagon.

Beth, like so many of her comrades were, was initially stunned by events of September 11th, but as members of the US Navy, they had bottled up their emotions and concentrated on the job in hand, which in Beth's case had meant back-seating her regular pilot, Lieutenant "Hawkeye" Pierce as a schedule of CAPs and their Rules of Engagement was worked out, and she had spent eight of the last twenty-four hours flying through empty skies, all commercial and general aviation airplanes having been grounded.

Last night, she and the rest of the Raptors' aircrew had spent uneasily dozing in the leather chairs of the squadron ready room and this morning having showered and breakfasted she had tried several more times to call Jason at his office, at home and on both his cell phones, and although she kept a brave face for the benefit of her squadron mates she was becoming increasingly anxious as the hours ticked by, especially as her latest attempt at calling her husband revealed that her cell phone service was back on line. Frowning at her cell phone, she replied in a distracted manner when Cassie "Lobo" Puller, one of the two women pilots in the squadron clapped a hand on her shoulder and said reassuringly, "He'll be okay, Skates, I bet he's just so busy up there right now…"

Lobo's reassurances were forgotten though when Lieutenant Commander Brian "Moriarty" Johanssen, the Squadron's XO, stuck his head into the ready room, and said in an emotionless voice, "Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell, report to the Squadron Office," and as quickly as he had arrived was gone again.

Skates felt the cold hand of dread grip her stomach and she levered herself to her feet and with legs that felt stiff, numb and almost unable to carry her made her way to the door, unconscious of the concerned and worried looks that followed her progress.

The thirty feet or so between the ready room and the Squadron Office stretched ahead of her for what seemed like miles, but almost before she realised she had arrived she found herself rapping on the bulkhead next to the office door.

"Enter!"

Slowly, stiffly, unwillingly, Skates opened the door and as soon as she saw the occupants of the office she knew. Commander Walker stood behind his desk as she entered, but her eyes were drawn to the other two occupants of the room, a strange officer wearing the rings of a Captain and a Commander wearing the insignia of a Christian Naval Chaplain.

The blood drained from Beth's face, and her eyes grew huge as she shook her head in denial, "Oh, no… no… Please God, no…" she whispered through suddenly dry lips.

"Beth, there's no easy way to say this," her CO said awkwardly, "but Lieutenant Commander Mitchell, your… your husband, didn't survive yesterday's attack on the Pentagon, he's been listed as KIA."

Beth shook her head in denial, "No… you're wrong, he just hasn't been able to call yet…"

Andrew Walker, was almost overcome by sympathy for the young woman visibly shaking in front of him, "I'm sorry, Beth, his body has been positively identified…"

Her worst fears realised, Beth resolved that she would not allow herself to disgrace Jason's memory by a public outpouring of grief but she needed to draw on reserves of will-power that she didn't even know she possessed to maintain her stoic demeanour, and despite her tear-flooded eyes, she licked her lips to moisten them, "I see, sir," she said composedly. "Thank you for letting me know. Permission to return to duty, sir?"

"Beth…" Philip Walker began, but stopped as Beth, flouting protocol interrupted him.

"Please, sir, I need to be doing…"

Walker looked at her in some perplexity, and opened his mouth to speak again but out of the corner of his eye he caught the Chaplain's minute shake of his head, and abandoned his protest, "Very well, Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell, dismissed."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Beth snapped out and assumed a brace for a couple of seconds before she performed a perfect heel and toe about face and left the office.

Walker waited until the door closed behind his junior officer, "God… sorry Padre… I thought it was hard writing letters to wives and parents… but that…" He took a deep, shuddering breath, "But I don't get it, she was so… so…"

The Chaplain smiled gently, but there was no amusement in the smile nor in his voice, "Different people take the news in different ways," he said, "But be prepared for a meltdown in the not too distant future, and please remember to let the Lieutenant know that my colleagues and I are here if she should decide she needs us."

"I will, Padre. Thank you."

Captain Harrison turned towards the aviator, "When the Lieutenant is ready, have her call my Master Chief, and we can go through all the necessary details with her regarding death benefits and GI insurance, and if she needs any help in arranging the obsequies, we can do that too."

"I will, sir, thank you."

Skates made her way back to the ready room, although she never remembered doing that, or returning to her seat, she plumped down in it and stared blankly ahead. Hawkeye saw her unfocussed, unseeing stare, and exchanging a swift glance with Lobo saw that she too had seen it.

Both pilots tried to make their approach seem casual as they sauntered across the floor to take seats one either side of her, "Hey Beth," Lobo said quietly, "You okay?"

With an effort Beth pulled herself back to the here and now, away from the mental images of Jason, smiling tenderly at her when he proposed, laughing at the burnt offering that was her first attempt to produce a Thanksgiving Dinner, the love that shone in his eyes just a few short weeks ago when he'd taken her for his bride…

"Uh, yeah…" she replied tonelessly, "Yeah, I'm fine…" not even aware of the tears that started to spill from her eyes and run down her face.

Lobo gave Hawkeye a look of concern and then gave him a meaningful nod of her head towards the doorway. Hawkeye took the hint, "Coffee, Skates?" he offered as a pretext for getting to his feet as he used his hands to push-off from the chair's embrace.

"Huh? Oh… no, no thank you…" Beth mumbled.

Lobo waited until Hawkeye had disappeared through the doorway before she said quietly, "Beth… do you even know that you're crying?"

"Oh…." Beth swiped her hands across her cheeks, "Better?" she asked numbly.

Lobo smiled encouragingly, "Not really, you look a bit of a mess… Why don't we get to the head and clean you up a bit?"

"Oh… yeah, yeah… good idea…" Beth said, still in that numb voice, as she allowed Lobo to pull her to her feet and guide her out into the hallway. They had just about reached the heads when Hawkeye caught them up, his expression one of urgent anxiety. Taking a cue from his expression and body language, Cassie ushered Beth into the women's head and with a "You go ahead and make a start, I'll be with you shortly," she gently pushed the unresisting younger woman into the room before closing the door and turning to Hawkeye,

"Well?" she asked worriedly.

Hawkeye faced her, his face full of sympathy for his RIO, "The skipper's just told me… Beth's husband was at his desk in the Pentagon yesterday morning… He… he was killed when the 'plane hit the building…"

"Oh, God." Cassie said almost prayerfully, "She's still just a bride!" and turning on her heel she pushed open the door to see Beth leaning at the full extent of her arms on the wash basin surround, the tears now streaming unashamedly down her cheeks.

Cassie stepped up beside her, slipping an arm around the RIO's shoulders, "Oh, honey…" she said softly, "I'm so, so sorry…"

That gentle expression of sympathy was what finally broke through Beth's resolution and breached the dam and with a wordless wail, Beth turned to the other woman, burying her face in Cassie's shoulder and sobbing bitterly, while the taller, blonde officer held her and let her weep.

**Wednesday, September 12****th****, 2001  
2307hrs EDT  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4th Street NE, Washington DC  
(130307ZSep01)**

Like the rest of JAG HQ, Harm had abandoned his work and had stood in the bull pen, eyes fixed in disbelief on the bank of television monitors, all now tuned to various news channels, as images of the World Trade Centre's burning North Tower were beamed around the world. There was a chorused, low, moan as the crowded bull pen witnessed a second airliner smash into the South Tower.

"Oh, God… turn it off…turn it off…" someone whispered into the hush, overcome by the horror on screen. But no-one moved.

The moan was repeated as one of the monitors switched from views of the Twin Towers to show a pale-faced and obviously badly shaken Stuart Dunston of ZNN standing in front of the White House. Someone picked up the remote control and turned up the volume so that they can hear the reporter's voice, "Reports are now coming in that a third airliner has just crashed into the Pentagon building in Arlington, Virginia, there can now be very little doubt that America, the United States, is under attack; we will keep you informed as this story… as this disaster develops…"

In the silence that followed the only voice that is heard is that of the Admiral on the phone to the OIC Security Detachment, "This headquarters is in lockdown, nobody in or out, until I countermand this order. All sentries to be issued with carbines and live ammunition. Understood? Good… carry on!"

The lockdown was lifted at nineteen hundred, allowing the still-shocked and stunned personnel to get home and reassure families and friends of their safety. The Admiral's last words of the day ringing in their ears, "The best thing we can do people is to carry on with our duties, while our leaders decide on the most appropriate action to take, so I expect to see you all back at your desks tomorrow morning for business as usual!"

But how can anything ever again be usual, when just for one example when Harm had turned in for duty this morning, the Marines of the Security Detachment had changed their Service Dress Alphas for BDUs and each and every one of them carried an M-16 and pouches heavy with magazines loaded with live ammunition, and each and every vehicle, no matter how well known the occupants, had been subject to a thorough search.

Harm asked the Admiral that morning if there was anything that he, that JAG, could do to help the situation, and was appalled at the drawn expression that seemed to be etched on the older man's face.

"I'm going up to the Pentagon, Commander, where the other two services' JAGs and myself are to advise the service secretaries, the Secretary of Defence and the Joint Chiefs as to the legalities of any proposal with which they might produce. In the meantime, you are ranking officer here, and you will need to keep this headquarters running. You will probably have to liaise with Admiral Morris about re-arranging the court docket. I would appreciate it if between you, you could bring about the restoration of at last the semblance of normality. Dismiss."

Harm drew himself up into a brace, "Aye, aye, sir!" and waited as the Admiral got to his feet and grabbed his briefcase and cover.

So… it had been a busy and emotionally exhausting day as he had endeavoured to keep the daily life of Jag running at an as near to normal tempo as possible, and now, after two stiff shots of bourbon and a hot shower, he crawled under the duvet on his bed and turned off the light, his eyes closing at the same time.

It seemed he had only just shut his eyes when a hammering at his apartment door brought him reluctantly back to awareness. With a muttered curse he switched on the bedside lamp and squinted at his alarm lock on the night stand, "It's one o'clock in the fucking morning!" he snarled, "Who the fuck…!"

For a moment he was tempted to turn out the light and bury his head under the pillow until the unwelcome intruder had given up and gone away, but a renewed salvo of hammer-like blows on the door found him tumbling out of bed and grabbing his blue terry-cloth robe to throw on over his boxers and T-shirt.

Switching on the lounge area lights he half-stumbled down the three steps to the main room of the apartment and still blinking the sleep from his eyes he found his way to the door and almost snatched it open his words of protest dying unspoken as he took in the sight of a red-eyed and tear-drenched Skates.

"Skates… what…?" he automatically stood back to allow her to enter the apartment, only vaguely aware that she had her sea-bag with her.

"What's going on? Have you and Jason had a fight?" he demanded.

Skates just shook her head wordlessly, her heartbreak now visible in her eyes and Harm felt a chill settle in his gut as he recalled her husband's duty station, "Oh, Beth… no?" he begged.

Skates looked up at him her eyes seeming the size of saucers in her ravaged face, she made a major effort, visibly swallowing hard so that she could speak, "He was on duty yesterday morning Harm… he… he… he didn't make it…" she said in a voice hoarsened by the countless tears she had already shed, and her face crumpled again as fresh tears coursed down her cheeks.

Harm kicked the door shut and reached out to his friend, gathering her in so that she rested against his chest, the top of her head just below his chin, while he softly murmured her name again and again as he gently led her to the couch.

After what seemed to be an age Beth's sobs quietened to the occasional hiccup and eventually to silence, but she stayed where she was, her face buried in the hollow of Harm's shoulder, his arms holding her, supporting and comforting her. Then after a silent interlude, she raised her head and giving an inelegant sniff she asked, "Harm, could I stay here, please? I was okay all day at Andrews… well… nearly and I thought I was dealing, but when I got back to our place… it was like he was there, but he wasn't, and now he never will be… and after a while it just got to me and…"

Harm raised a gentle finger and laid it on her lips to silence her, "Of course you can stay, absolutely no question… now have you eaten or drunk anything today… you need to replace some of that moisture you've lost…"

Beth had to concentrate, to try to remember… "Uh… I had a coffee or two…" she sniffled in a choked voice.

Harm nodded, "Okay… look, you know where the shower is, I'll dig you out a T-shirt or something, and while you freshen up, I'll fix you a drink and get the couch rigged."

Beth opened her mouth to protest that she didn't need anything, but was silenced again by a gentle finger against her lips.

Twenty minutes later found her seated at the kitchen island, looking absurdly young in one of Harm's Naval Academy T-shirts that hung to her knees, as she listlessly stirred the tomato soup in the bowl in front of her and eyed with disfavour the toasted cheese sandwich on the plate next to it. Harm poured two glasses of tonic water, and sliding one across the island top he quirked an eyebrow, "It's not that bad, is it?" he asked gently.

"What? Oh… oh, no… it's just that I don't feel much like eating, I guess." Beth replied in a dead voice.

"I'm sure you don't, but you need to, so give it a try, huh? Even if it's only to please me…"

For a moment Beth's fury flamed and it was on the tip of her tongue to scream at him that she didn't give a fuck about his feelings, didn't he realise that Jason, her Jason, was dead and that had ripped a fucking huge hole in her heart that would never heal… But the anger was gone as quickly as it had come and figuring that the path of least resistance was the easiest route to take, she listlessly dipped her spoon into the soup and raised to her mouth.

Although she hadn't felt like eating, she also hadn't realised that she was hungry until; she swallowed that first spoonful of soup, and her empty stomach growled loudly enough for both her and Harm to hear it.

Harm's grin was sympathetic as he gently urged her, "That's it, go on eat up. Your stomach wants feeding, even if your brain thinks it doesn't."

With a weak smile in return Beth turned her attention back to her meal and with a speed that surprised her – and Harm – she almost gobbled it down. Finished, she slid the plate and bowl away from herself and said, "Thanks, Hammer. I didn't know I needed that, but I guess I did, after all."

"Okay…" Harm replied as he stacked the dishes in the sink, "Let's get you bedded down…" he led her over to the couch which he had made up with sheets and an opened out sleeping bag to serve as a duvet.

"It's not the most comfortable bed in the world, but it is slightly better than a ship-board rack, so try to sleep, Beth, and we'll decide what's best to do in the morning…."

Beth nodded and gulped, "I'll… I'll try…" she agreed.

Harm nodded and smiled encouragingly and retreated to the bedroom, where crawling back under the covers, he once again switched the light off and lay for a while in the darkness, listening to the soft sounds of Beth crying, sounds which eventually faded into silence as the exhausted young officer finally surrendered to sleep.

**Wednesday, September 26****th****, 2001  
1827hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4th Street NE, Washington DC  
(262327ZSep01)**

Harm sighed as he hung his cover on one of the row of pegs just to the side of the door and bit back the cry of "Hey! I'm home!" which in a surprisingly short time had almost become a habit. But Skates was gone now; she hadn't been able to face her and Jason's apartment, so amongst other tasks she, with Harm's help, had packed up her belongings, and then had put Jason's property, together with the furniture they had acquired, into storage and terminated the lease. She had applied for accommodation in the BOQ at Andrews. There had been the usual bureaucratic delays, so typical of Navy administration, but she had been allocated quarters on Monday and had finally, with many protestations of thanks, and a few tears, moved off Harm's couch today.

He hadn't, of course, been her only support, her parents had flown up from Florida for ten days, and all her brothers and sisters had made it to DC for the Arlington Funeral, where all of the one hundred twenty five victims of the Pentagon attack had been interred, but Beth had been adamant that she had no need to move from where she was until the Navy provided her with quarters.

She also received support from her squadron mates, but she had confided to Harm one evening that although she knew they meant well, they were just a little too supportive, treating her almost as if she was an invalid or as if somehow the loss of Jason had left her mentally impaired.

Harm was honest enough with himself to silently acknowledge that if he had, as Beth expressed it, given her time to and space to come to terms with her loss, it had only been because he had no idea of how to express his sympathy verbally without it crossing the line into maudlin sentiment. Instead he had encouraged her, in her own time, to talk about Jason, to recall the moments and days of joy and happiness that he and Beth had shared, until at last, on the second Friday evening of her visit, they had sat up over seemingly endless mugs of hot chocolate, he listening, while she spoke, well into the early hours of Saturday morning, until she had finally wept again as she smiled through her memories. Once more, Harm held her, comforting her until she had fallen asleep in his arms. He had laid her down on the couch, gently drawing the covers over her and quietly turning put the light and sought his own bed.

The following morning he saw, to his surprise, faint glimmers of the old Skates rising to the surface, and although he knew that she would never again be quite the same as previously, he was glad to see that she was beginning to recover her spirits.

His support hadn't been limited to the moral, he had managed to engage the interest and assistance of Lieutenant Christine Carmichael, or "CC" as she was generally known, from the second floor LSO office, who had been able to bring to bear subtle pressure and expedite the release of Jason's Death in Service Benefits and GI Insurance and then assist Beth in the setting up of a trust fund, which would preserve the capital against need while funnelling the interest to Beth's ordinary checking account.

Beth had returned to duty last Monday and was once again back-seating for Hawkeye, as the system of CAPs became more settled, and although he had been hesitant about her returning to duty so quickly, Harm had had to acknowledge that keeping busy seemed to be helping in her recovery.

Harm also silently and gratefully acknowledged the understanding afforded him by Admiral Chegwidden. He had gone to his CO, cap in hand, and even now couldn't quite grasp what had happened as he mentally reviewed that conversation.

"Tiner, I need to speak with the Admiral if he has time?" Harm told the Admiral's Yeoman.

"One moment, sir, I'll check," the young Petty Officer replied, his hand already stretching towards the intercom.

"Admiral, sir, Commander Rabb would like to see you, if possible?"

"_Tell him to take a damn number_!" grunted the crusty former Seal, but then, before Harm even had time to register his disappointment, relented and continued, "_Alright, Tiner, send him in_!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Tiner responded, and then ensured that the intercom was no longer live before he added with a sympathetic glance at Harm, "Good luck, sir."

"Thanks, Tiner!" Harm replied in a voice loaded with irony, and then mentally straightening himself he rapped on the door frame to the Admiral's office, and then on being told to enter he stepped though the doorway and crossed the suddenly immense area of carpet before halting in front of the Admiral's desk.

The Admiral glared at Harm over the top of his reading glasses, "What can I do for you, Mister Rabb?"

'Be diplomatic,' Harm told himself, 'you're here to ask a favour, "Sir, first off, thank you for seeing me, at such short notice…"

"Short notice? Hell! No Goddamn notice! So cut out the BS and cut to the chase!" Chegwidden snorted.

"Yes, sir," Harm hastily agreed. "I don't know if you'll remember me ever mentioning a Lieutenant Elizabeth Hawkes, my RIO when I was deployed on the Patrick Henry, sir…"

"I remember, Commander, and I also remember that you defended her at her court-martial!"

"Yes, sir," Harm agreed in a relieved tone, "And I also attended her wedding at the back end of July…"

Again the Admiral interrupted, this time his words were accompanied by a steely glare, "Do not even think of telling me that you are now in an improper relationship with a married office, a junior married officer," he gritted out.

"No sir!" Harm denied hotly, aggrieved that his CO, a man whose opinion he trusted and valued, could even think such a thing, but then as his spurt of anger faded he knew that what he had to say next might arouse even greater suspicion, "The thing is sir; she's staying with me – on a temporary and strictly platonic basis, sir."

"Sharing accommodation? Rabb, that's strictly prohibited by regulations…"

"Yes, sir, I know," Harm, greatly daring, took the almost inconceivable step of interrupting a superior, "But if you'll hear me out, please, sir, there is a reason…"

"It had better be a damn good one!" Chegwidden warned him.

"I think it is, sir. Beth, that is Lieutenant Hawkes, married an officer on the CNO's staff. He was at his desk the morning before last." Harm gulped before he could continue, "He was killed at his desk, sir, during the attack."

"And you're now looking after Lieutenant Hawkes, is that it, Commander?" the Admiral asked, his voice now conveying sympathetic understanding.

"Not looking after exactly, sir," Harm demurred, "Just kinda helping her along… she doesn't really know anyone else in DC, sir, and she can't face their apartment at the moment, and she is… was… my backseater, sir, and…"

"Okay, Commander, I get the picture, but why come and tell me?" Chegwidden thought he knew the answer, but he wanted to hear his problem child's reasoning.

"Well, sir, firstly to inform you officially, so that if anything about the situation comes back to bite me on the ass, then at least you were aware of the position right from the get-go, and secondly because I may need to take short, no-warning absences from the office. Obviously I shall try not to let the situation affect my performance sir, but these are unusual circumstances, sir…" Harm trailed off into an uncomfortable silence as he realised that he had been babbling.

"So… you want me to cover your ass?" Chegwidden demanded sourly, but Harm had caught what he thought was a glimpse of humour in the Admiral's eye.

"Uh… not quite, sir," he risked a mild joke, "More in the nature of just watching my six for bogies, sir!"

Chegwidden snorted in what might have been amusement, "Just as long as this is a temporary situation, Rabb, she's already begun to corrupt you into lapsing back into pilot-speak! Dismiss!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Harm's response was both heartfelt and grateful.

So for the best part of two weeks, Harm and Beth had settled into a domestic, if platonic, routine, which had, unknown to him, had gone a long way to healing the ache in Harm's heart caused by his estrangement from Mac, who had still not, as far as he knew, made any attempt to contact him. And now, the realisation that Skates had packed her bags and gone left a strangely empty feeling in his gut, although he knew that she needed to move on.

**Wednesday, October 10****th****, 2001  
0813hrs EST  
Flight Line  
Naval Air Facility  
Andrews AFB, MD  
(101313ZOct01)**

Harm had taken advantage of his uniform to get through both security checks, and the crowd of friends and relatives who waited to wave their farewells to the Raptors as the squadron prepared to fly off from Andrews and re-embark in the Patrick Henry, which had sailed yesterday for a six-month deployment in the Eastern Mediterranean in support of the three day-old invasion of Afghanistan, a response to the Taliban's refusal to allow the extradition of the al Quaeda leadership, responsible for the September Eleventh attacks.

Harm was worried about Beth's participation in operations and although he had passed off to her that his concern was that she would be flying without him, he was more concerned that she would see operations as a chance for her to exact some kind of personal revenge.

Harm waited in the hall outside the ready room, waiting for the briefing to finish so that he could tell Beth of his concerns, and as the door opened and the room emptied he called pout her name, and taking her hand in his he expressed his thoughts on her flying without him.

Beth refuted his worries, "Hell, Hammer, it's not as if I haven't flown hundreds of sorties without you, both before and after we flew together. And besides…" her eyes twinkled with mischief, "You're the only driver I've had that dunked me in the ocean!"

Beth noticed that Harm did not respond to her attempts to lighten the mood and sobering quickly, she looked back up at him, "I'll be careful, Harm. I can promise you that. I can't promise you that I'll be safe, we both know that there's no guarantee of that anywhere in the world these days, but I'll do my best to come home safe and sound!"

Harm had to be satisfied, and with a rather weak grin, he asked, "Permission to hug, the Lieutenant?"

Heedless of the eyes of the rest of the squadron as they came crowding into the hallway, Beth nearly threw herself into his arms, "Hell, Harm, you don't ever have to ask that!" she exclaimed.

Hawkeye waited patiently until Harm and Beth released each other, and then with a quiet, "You ready, Skates?" he drew her attention back to business.

"Lieutenant, you look after Skates, do you hear? Otherwise you'll have me to contend with!" Harm warned the younger man in a not quite joking manner.

"I hear you, sir." Hawkeye responded quietly, not at all offended by Harm's words, "And you have my word on it, sir!"

"That's good enough for me!" Harm agreed. "Good luck out there - both of you!"

"Thanks, Hammer!" Beth forced a grin, and then paused for effect, "But we prefer to rely on skill!"

**Sunday, October 28****th****, 2001  
1943hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4th Street NE, Washington DC  
(290043ZSep01)**

Harm finished the post-dinner clean-down in a matter of minutes, not that there had been much to wash up and dry, just the large saucepan in which he'd boiled the pasta, the smaller one in which he'd heated the sauce, the baking tray for the garlic bread together with his plate and silverware. Her hadn't bothered with a glass and had contented himself with taking his beer direct from the bottle, and he now decided, another cold one would go down pretty well.

Taking the second bottle from the fridge, he twisted the cap off and allowed himself a mouthful before he crossed to the far end of the lounge area and powered up his computer. He had finished his opening statement for the Donaldson possession with intent to distribute case, and just for once he was heartily glad that he would be sitting at the Trial Counsel's table and not on the Defence's side of the aisle, but even so, it wouldn't hurt to go over the case notes for an hour or so an polish up his opening statement where he could.

So it was with an irritated frown that he jerked his head away from the VDU when barely a half an hour later he was disturbed by a series of sharp knocks on the apartment door, with a muttered "Oh for God's sake… who the hell…" he strode across the room and threw the door open to find a washed-out Skates on the doorstep, once again carrying her sea-bag.

"Skates? What? I… I mean… I thought… I thought you were deployed… dammit, you are deployed… I watched you fly out… what… you're not UA are you?" he stammered.

"No, I'm not UA," Skates replied in a toneless voice, "Are you going to let me in?"

"Oh… Of course!" Harm stepped back to allow Skates into the apartment. She walked in rather uncertainly, Harm thought and dropped her sea-bag just inside the door.

"May I?" she asked. Indicating the couch.

"Yes, yes… you don't need to ask! _Mi casa es su casa_!" Harm announced, knowing that Beth spoke Spanish – in fact her Spanish was somewhat more fluent than his.

"I hope you mean that, Hammer, 'cos I'm asking if you can spare the use of your couch for a few nights…" Beth said with a wan smile.

"As I said, you don't need to ask!" Harm repeated, "Of course you can stay… but… I do have to ask 'why'. What's going on Beth?"

Beth seemed to take an age to answer and Harm took the opportunity to lean against the wall and look at her properly. She was hunched over forwards, hugging herself while her elbows rested on her knees and looked pale, miserable and defenceless and absurdly small and young, totally different from the feisty, up-for-anything Lieutenant he had come to know, and in some way love, and to whom he felt that he literally owed his life "So… tell me, what's wrong, Beth?" he urged her gently.

She looked up at him, her eyes filled with a peculiar mixture of emotions and spread her hands helplessly, "I'm grounded, I've lost my flight status," she said in a very small voice.

Harm bolted upright, his fists clenched at his side, you had a FNAEB? And you didn't call me?"

Beth shook her head, "No… no… it was nothing like that… I failed a physical…" a small, wry grin twitched the corner of her mouth, "or I might have passed one… at the moment I'm not sure which!"

Harm's forehead furrowed in a frown, "Beth, you're not making much sense," he complained as he slid into one of the armchairs.

Beth sighed, "I've been grounded and transferred to shore duties because I am no longer allowed to fly in ejection seats or serve aboard ship."

Harm spread his hands on frustration, "I still don't get it. You've told me what, but you still haven't told me why…" he protested.

Beth drew a deep breath, "Harm, I'm pregnant…" she said at last.

"What? How?" he blurted out, operating his mouth before he engaged his bran.

Despite herself, Beth couldn't help a half-hearted grin at Harm's reaction, "Really… if you don't know how at your age, I think I need to have a talk with your mom and dad," she quipped.

Harm crimsoned and with a rueful grin admitted, "Okay, you got me on that one. Yes, of course I know how... but how did you find out…?"

Beth sobered quickly and dropped her eyes, "When we got on board the Henry, it was like I was sea-sick. Okay, that's not unusual after a spell ashore and I wasn't the only one, but it usually goes away after a few days, but in my case it didn't. So I went on sick call to get some Dramamine, but the Doc was concerned that the nausea was so persistent and he decided to give me a physical and a full blood work-up. Once he had diagnosed me, I was obliged to inform the skipper and the CAG… the next thing I know is I'm on the COD with orders to report to Air Ops at Andrews tomorrow at zero eight hundred. Thing is, when I arrived, the VOQ was full, and as you're about the only person I know in the DC area…"

"Not a problem, Beth, you're more than welcome to stay for as long as you need," Harm assured her, sliding off the chair onto his knees and taking her two hands, cold little hands he noted, in his own much larger and warmer grasp.

"Umm… forgive me for saying so, Beth, but you don't seem very happy about the baby?"

"I… I guess I'm kinda conflicted… Jason and I wanted a family at some stage… but not yet… and without Jason…" she shook her head impatiently and blinked away the tears. "Look, it's this way, before all this madness, I had two things that I loved, Jason and flying, those sick bastards took Jason away from me on nine eleven, and now the baby has taken flying away from me… and Harm, I'm scared… I'm scared at the thought of going through all this alone… I'm scared at the idea of being a single mom… and oh, Harm, I'm scared that I'm going to hate my baby…"

Harm smiled encouragingly, "Beth… I know everything is uncertain right now, but I can assure you of two things. First, you're not going to be alone through all this; I'm here for you. Secondly, you will not hate your baby… I can't pretend to know what you're thinking and feeling right now, but you are too fine a person to hate an innocent child. And what's more, you're going to be a great, a really, great mom! Hey… what did I say?" he demanded in concern as Beth burst into tears.

It took Harm nearly half an hour to calm Beth down, and he was wise enough to realise that part of the cause of her tears was sheer fatigue brought on by a nearly twenty hour transit from the Patrick Henry to Andrews via Naples and Ramstein and a mid-Atlantic in-flight refuelling.

But once her tears had given way to series of sniffles a red eyed and red nosed Beth emerged from Harm's arms and grinned shamefacedly, "Harm, I'm so, so sorry about that… I swore that I wasn't going to turn into a watering pot…"

"Hey, it's okay… why don't you go and wash-up and I'll start some hot chocolate, and then when you come back you can tell me when your due date is, and whether you're going to have a boy or a girl…"

Skates just shook her head, "You really have no idea, do you… they won't be able to tell the sex of the baby until about the sixteenth week.. and as for when he or she is due… the end of the first week in June, or so the doctor thinks… Now, if you don't mind, I think I'll take a shower and change out of uniform?"

"Sure, go right ahead, Beth, I'll get your bed rigged," Harm agreed with his ready smile.

**Monday, October 29****th****, 2001  
0942hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(291442ZOct01)**

"Yes, Commander, what can I do for you?" Admiral Chegwidden demanded of the officer standing at attention in front of his desk

"Uh… sir, do you recall a short while ago I informed you that Lieutenant Hawkes was staying with me for a short while before she was allocated quarters at Andrews?"

"Yes, I remember," Chegwidden said flatly.

"Well, sir, she had to give up those quarters when her Squadron deployed to the Med… but she's back now sir, and once again I'm offering her accommodation until she can get herself squared away with a new apartment."

Chegwidden frowned, embarked aircrew weren't normally short-toured, except in disciplinary cases. What in God's name had Rabb got himself mixed up on this time? He asked himself.

"Explain, Commander?"

Rabb winced, he was going to have breach Beth's privacy, and he didn't like the idea of doing that at all, "Sir, Lieutenant Hawkes has had her flight status revoked – temporarily, and also temporarily she is barred from sea-duty."

Harm could almost see the penny drop, and he could almost predict word for word what the Admiral's reaction would be.

"She's pregnant?" Chegwidden demanded.

"Yes, sir!"

Chegwidden rose to his feet and leaned, stiff-armed, on his desk, and when he spoke his words came out in a quiet, menacing hiss, "You had better not be about to tell me that it's yours, Mister!"

"No, sir! The baby's father is – was – hell, I don't know the right tense, sir – but Lieutenant Hawkes' late husband is the baby's father, sir!"

Chegwidden relaxed, conscious of a wave of relief that he wouldn't have to take any action against his top attorney, "So, if the child isn't yours, how come she's come running to you, Commander?"

"Sir, Beth… Lieutenant Hawkes, was my RIO, it's a tight bond, sir, I imagine it's pretty much like the bond between members of the Teams, sir?"

Chegwidden acknowledged that with a grunt, and with a wave of his hand invited Harm to continue.

"Sir, Beth's parents are down in Florida, and I believe her late husband's family live in one of the Dakotas, she has been PCS'd to Air Ops at Andrews, and I'm just about the only person she knows in the DC area. She needs a friend right now, sir, and I'm proud to consider myself to be that friend."

Chegwidden allowed a tight grin to appear on his face, "Power down, Commander, and take a seat."

He waited until Harm had settled and then settling back into his own chair, said in a conversational tone, "I hope you realise what you're getting into here, Harm."

"Just helping a friend in need, sir. And sir, I'll be needing to take time off to take her for her OB appointments, especially later in her pregnancy when she won't be driving."

"H'mm… yes, we can work around that, but be careful, son. Don't go confusing friendship with anything else… " he held up a hand to forestall the objection he could see forming on Harm's lips, "Oh… I know you won't say or do anything improper or inappropriate, but be careful you don't invest too much of yourself in this situation." He hesitated, unsure whether or not to continue, but what he was about to say needed to be said, "I've seen you do just that, and I've seen you suffer for it, particularly over the last two years. There was a reason I told you and Mac not to get too close to each other!"

"Yes, sir!" Harm replied stiffly.

"Tone, Commander," Chegwidden reminded Harm gently that although the interview had become informal, there was still military etiquette and protocol to be taken into consideration.

"Yes, sir, sorry, sir."

"Now, I don't know what passed between you and the Colonel while you were both on the Guadalcanal, but you came back from that case like a bear with a sore head. You've barely mentioned her name since, and I've noticed – and others have too – that when her name does come up in conversation, you either change the subject or make an excuse to leave that conversation."

Harm wriggled uncomfortably, "Sir, let us just say that your advice about not getting too close was good advice, and I should have listened to, and acted upon it."

"It was good advice, Harm, and I'm repeating it now in reference to Lieutenant Hawkes."

"Sir, yes, sir!" Harm stood. "Permission to dismiss, sir?"

"Granted!"

Chegwidden watched his subordinate cross to the door and leave the office, before he sat back with a wry grin, "Note to self," he said aloud, "Storm warning, squalls ahead: secure all loose gear!"

**Monday, October 29****th****, 2001  
1957hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4th Street NE, Washington DC  
(300057ZOct01)**

Harm crossed to the door two minutes after he'd seen Skates' Ford Focus come to a stop outside, opening the door just as she raised her fist to knock.

"Developing ESP, are we?" she asked in a mildly sarcastic tone.

"I could say yes," Harm agreed with a grin, as he stood back to let her enter, "Or on the other hand, I could just admit that saw you pull up in the alley "

"Damn, and I didn't even see the drapes twitching!" Skates mourned with an attempt at humour that Harm found both endearingly defiant and yet just slightly pathetic at the same time.

"That's because there are no drapes," Harm said in the exaggeratedly patient voice of someone pointing out the blindingly obvious.

"Which is why I didn't see them twitch," Beth came right back at him.

"You're determined to have the last word, aren't you?" Harm asked with a grin as he closed the door.

"Damn right," Beth agreed as she hung up her cover and shrugged off her service dress jacket, "Can't let you get into the habit of thinking you can out-argue me!"

"No, ma'am," Harm agreed in an ever-so-humble voice.

It was too much for Beth and she barely restrained a giggle, "Have I got time for a shower before dinner, or have you already eaten?"

"Yes and no. I was waiting for you. I've got a lasagne waiting to go in the oven along with some garlic bread, green salad and a fresh fruit salad for dessert."

As it turned out there was plenty of time for Beth to take her shower, and when she emerged from the bathroom some twenty minutes later, dressed in a Raptors' T-Shirt and a pair of Navy Academy jogging bottoms, she sniffed appreciatively at the aroma emanating from the kitchen area.

"M'mm… smells good," she commented as she accepted a glass of tonic water from Harm, "How much longer? I'm starving!" she added hastily as she saw his eyebrows begin to raise.

For a second Harm was tempted to come back at her with a teasing remark about her now eating for two, but her earlier ambivalence about her pregnancy made him bite his tongue and instead ask, "Can you hold out for another twenty, twenty-five minutes?"

Beth pouted, "If I must…" she complained, keeping a sly watch on Harm from under her lashes.

Harm grinned, "Nope, not gonna work… But while we're waiting, how did you get on today, were you okay?"

"I'm fine… I threw up a little when I got to Andrews, after the drive, but nothing to worry about. Today was mostly in-processing, plus a visit to Sick Quarters – no, nothing to worry about, just getting on the books and making the initial OB appointment at Bethesda. And then there was getting my head around the watch system…"

"Which is?" Harm asked as he perched on one of the bar stools that stood next to the island.

Beth took a sip of her tonic water before she replied, "Well…There are four watches, Alpha, Bravo Charlie and Delta. We work nine days of double watches and then have three days liberty, so that there are three watches standing two eight-hour and two four watches every day. Zero eight hundred until sixteen hundred; sixteen hundred until twenty hundred, twenty hundred until twenty-three fifty-nine hours; and then twenty-three fifty-nine hours until zero eight hundred. Just like shipboard watches, including the dog-watches, just, like I said they're double the length."

"So… what watch is yours?" harm asked.

"I'm in Charlie Watch, Commander Betty Jackson – an aviator – in command, with a Lieutenant Commander Wakefield he's an NFO and myself. Then there's a Chief who'll make sure I get the hang of things, and a half dozen sailors. I understand the manning is about the same in each watch."

Harm nodded, he knew Commander Jackson slightly, he had interviewed her as a witness on a not so recent mishap investigation "Uh-huh.. and when is your first watch?"

"First dog watch tomorrow, sixteen to twenty hundred, then zero eight hundred the day after tomorrow…"

"H'mm... with a watch system like that, there are going to be nights when you don't get home 'til gone midnight… Is your OB going to be cool with that?"

"If everything else is on line, yeah, I think so," Beth nodded

"Well…" Harm stood and walked across to the desk on which his computer stood, and opening one of the drawers, he rummaged for a second or two, and then returned to Beth, holding something in his hand, "In that case, you'd better have these. Just in case I'm not home, or I'm in bed when you get here…" he smiled and dropped a pair of keys into her outstretched hand.

"You trust me with the keys to your apartment?" Beth asked in some surprise.

"Hell, yes! I trusted you with my life every time we climbed into the cockpit, compared to that, an apartment is nothing!"

The 'ping' of the oven timer brought any further discussion to an end and Harm turned-to in order to serve up the lasagne, salad and garlic bread, grinning as he spotted Beth's eyes following every movement of the serving spoons.

"Here ya go, dig deep!" he told her as snagged a second large bottle of tonic water from the fridge, and waited for her reaction.

"This… this isn't quite what I expected!" Beth exclaimed in surprise, "It's damned tasty… but…"

"Where's the meat?" Harm grinned, "There isn't any, just pasta, pasta sauce and red-lentils, with a touch or two of my secret ingredients."

"Well, whatever it is, it's damned good!" Beth endorsed her original opinion, "You know, a girl could get used to this…"

Harm looked uncomfortable at that, "Yeah… Beth we need to talk… to plan… I mean you're welcome here for as long as you want… but this place isn't really big enough for two adults full time, and especially not big enough for two adults and a baby… No, I'm not kicking you out, and I have no intention of ever doing that… but we need to start thinking about the future, and we need to start now…"

"We?" Beth asked in some surprise.

"Hell, yeah. I said last night that I'd be with you all the way in this, and I don't make promises that I don't intend to keep!"

"And that was a promise, Harm? 'Cos I never heard that word."

"Hell, yeah, it was a promise!" he affirmed.

Beth nodded, "Okay… starting tomorrow, I'm going to look for an apartment, a bit nearer to Andrews, probably, maybe somewhere like Allentown or Camp Springs… near enough to Andrews and handy for the Beltway for Bethesda and for local stores…"

"Sounds like a plan," Harm agreed, "And I have one or two folk in mind that might be able to give you a hand in finding somewhere…"

"Just as long as long as you remember that it's me that's going to have to live there!" Beth cautioned him, "I don't want some damn great freezing, bachelor apartment, just a small two-bedroom job, one for me, and one for whoever it is in here…" she patted her still flat stomach. "Now on to the really important business for the night…" she grinned wickedly, "Is there any ice-cream to go with that fruit salad?"


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

**Tuesday, October 30****th****, 2001  
0958hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(301458ZOct01)**

"After last week's debacle? Really?" Harm demanded incredulously of Carolyn Imes, while Alan Mattoni just smiled as they made their way back along the corridor from the daily staff call in the conference room, "The Saints don't stand a hope in hell against the Giants – hell, they only just managed a win against the Cardinals on Sunday!"

"So they had an off night!" Carolyn hotly defended her favourite NFL team, as both Harm and Alan paused to allow Carolyn to precede them through the door to the bull pen.

"Yeah? What are they now? Six and four, isn't it, and they've only played the weaker teams so…Oof!"

He broke off what he was saying in an explosive gasp as he cannoned into Carolyn who had stopped just inside the bull pen and once more, like everyone else in the room, was staring open mouthed at the TV monitor that relayed the ZNN news feed, which showed a fuzzy, jerky and out of focus moving image of a burning building against a night sky while the anchor woman's voice came over the air, "Reports are coming in, backed up by this amateur footage, of an attack on the United States Consulate at Aceh on the island of Sumatra in Indonesia… From what we understand, local passions became enflamed when a local woman complained that she had been raped by a US Serviceman. The serviceman was arrested by Indonesian Authorities, but after intervention by a US Military attorney he was turned over to the custody of the US Consulate Security Detail…"

At the words "US Military attorney" Carolyn turned to Harm and said "Mac?"

Harm shook his head and shrugged, "I don't know," he admitted, we haven't spoken for a while…"

Carolyn thought his reaction was muted, but then she saw the concern in his eyes, but before she could respond the Admiral emerged from his office, "As you were people! Turn that damn thing of!" he gestured at the monitor, and Personnelman Three Hendry grabbed the remote and hastily muted the sound.

"I understand that you are all concerned that Colonel MacKenzie may be embroiled in this… this… incident… At the moment we don't know, although the possibility of two military attorneys in country is distinctly remote. Accordingly I have placed a call to the Captain of the Guadalcanal, and as soon as I hear anything, you'll hear it too! Now, back to work people, we have an Headquarters to run!"

He glared at the crowd for a second or to and then snapped out, "Get with the programme, people! Move it!"

The crowd dispersed like a panic-stricken flock of pigeons and for a minute or two there was silence in the bull pen, gradually eroded as work picked up to its normal momentum, or at least as normal as it could be, Harm mused, when heads kept turning towards the now-silent TV screen

True to his word, the Admiral reappeared in the bull pen about forty minutes later, and called the room to attention. He looked at the sea of expectant faces turned towards him and cleared his throat, "I have just finished speaking with the Skipper of the Guadalcanal and the Force Commander of 1 MEU. Colonel MacKenzie was involved in the dispute in Aceh, and after the gunnery sergeant in command of the detachment was killed and his staff sergeant wounded, she organised and led the evacuation of all personnel without suffering any further casualties. As I speak, she and the rest of the survivors are inbound by helo to the Guadalcanal. That is all!"

Despite his still-simmering anger at Mac Harm breathed a sigh of relief at the news that she was safe, and realised with a start that her six months TAD was nearly complete. For a moment he sat, turning his pen over and over in his fingers, wondering just how he would feel when he met her, face to face again.

In the meantime, he had promises to keep. Standing he moved to his office door and cast his eyes around the bull pen until he spied the person he wanted, "Lieutenant Sims?" he called out.

Harriet Sims looked over her shoulder and met his eyes, "Sir?" she said questioningly as she turned to face him.

"Could I speak with you, please?" he asked.

"Of course, sir!" Harriet crossed the twenty or so feet that separated them and Harm stood back as she neared his office door, "Come on in, Harriet, and take a seat."

Despite the fact that she was ninety five per cent certain that she had a clear conscience the blonde woman felt a certain amount of relief at his words, if she had been in trouble then he would have addressed her as 'Lieutenant' and neither would he have invited her to sit down.

She did so, carefully smoothing her skirt beneath her as she did, and once settled, she looked across the desk at him with expectant blue eyes.

"Harriet, I need your help…" he began.

"Of course, sir, anything I can do…"

Harm held up a hand, "Just let me explain before you jump in feet first," he grinned to take any sting out of his words, "I'm looking for a two-bedroom apartment, suitable for a mother and new born, somewhere near Andrews and convenient to the Beltway and local stores, and I figured that with your experience with little AJ, you'd have a better idea of what's needed than I do!"

To say that Harriet was surprised would probably qualify for the final elimination round of the understatement of the year, and all of a sudden, although now bursting with curiosity, she heard a little voice telling her to tread carefully. Hastily abandoning the first question to spring to mind, 'Does the Colonel know?' she instead said gravely, "I don't quite understand sir, I thought you loved your apartment?"

"Oh, it's not for me, Harriet," Harm answered with his easy grin, "It's for a friend… Really it is for a friend. She's just found out she's pregnant and has been sent ashore and received orders for the JAF at Andrews, and I said I'd help her find a place… once she's had the baby she won't be able to stay in BOQs…"

"No, certainly not!" Harriet affirmed, the light of battle sparking in her eyes, "BOQs are no place for a baby! Of course I'll help, sir. I'll get on it this evening and have a look at the local listings… near Andrews, was it?"

"Yes, and convenient to local stores and the Beltway. Thanks Harriet."

"It'll be a snip, sir!"

**Friday, November 2****nd****, 2001  
1123hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(021623ZOct01)**

Harm had just returned from an overnight visit to the Academy at Annapolis to investigate what should have been a simple case of DDO only to find that the accused had filed a charge against his CO under article 138 of the UCM. According to the accused he had filed the charge the day prior to himself being charged with DDO, but according to his CO, the charges were filed on the same day. Although the CO agreed that the accused had drafted his charge prior to the DDO charge being filed, it hadn't been filed until the next day, and that consequently he was unaware of the charge being raised against him.

The accused's position was simply that he had been charged with DDO as a reprisal for raising the article 138 charge against his Commanding Officer.

Harm pinched the bridge of his nose in an effort to ward off an incipient headache, this was turning into a case of he said, he said, and 'thank God,' he thought that it wasn't a case of 'he said, she said,' the Tailhhook scandal and subsequent flawed investigations and witch hunt still cast a long shadow over the Navy.

A loud, "Officer on Deck!" barely penetrated his thoughts, but a few moments later, a loud cheer and a burst of applause brought his head up and around to see what the disturbance was. He was just in time to see Mac and Gunnery Sergeant Galindez make their way through the applauding denizens of the bull pen and into Tiner's ante-office.

'So…' he mused, 'Mac is back…'. He closed the case file that up until a few moments ago had threatened him with a monster-sized headache, and sat back, trying to analyse his feelings towards the woman who had demanded that he make such a great sacrifice in order to prove himself "worthy" of her love. Resentment? Sure he felt resentment, but there were also the memories of her loyalty in following him to Russia, of her backing him in more than one sticky situation. But there were also memories of her pulling a weapon on him during their first case together, so, okay, she had been conflicted between family loyalties and her duty, and had temporarily let family win out. Then she fell off the wagon, and had let fly with a number of nasty barbed comments aimed at him, okay, she was drunk at the time, but didn't the Romans have a saying, _in vino veritas_ - in wine the truth? He knew enough to know that alcohol doesn't make you say things you don't mean, but it does lower your inhibitions enough to say what you really think.

No, he valued his past friendship with her, but it would have to stay in the past and maybe, maybe, one day they could work towards getting at least some of that friendship back, but in the meantime he couldn't afford to let her back into heart just so she could savage it some more. It was going to be hard, but he was going to have to keep her at a distance, at least at arm's length…

A knock on his door frame brought his head whipping around, half hoping, half dreading it was Mac, but he breathed a sigh of relief when he identified his visitor, "What can I do for you, Carolyn?" he asked.

"Mac and the Gunny are telling us what happened at Aceh, I thought you might like to know…"

"Another time, maybe," he replied with a vague gesture at the file in front of him, "I'm kinda busy right now, and don't really have the time to listen to war stories."

Carolyn bit her lip, and nodded, "Okay…" she murmured doubtfully, and then stepped away from his doorway.

The next knock, some twenty minutes later was accompanied by that well-remembered voice, "Harm?" she said softly.

Harm drew a deep breath and concentrating on maintaining an impassive expression he looked up at her as she stood, still in her BDUs, in the doorway.

Despite himself Harm's heart lurched, damn, it was good to see her, but... he drew deeply on his reserves of self-discipline, "Can I help you, Colonel?" he asked coolly.

Mac was rocked by the disinterest and indifference in his voice, she had known him to be angry at her, exasperated by her, and even infuriated by her, but this total lack of emotion was like a pail of cold water in the face. Blinking back tears, she tried again, "Harm we need to talk…" she began.

"Not now, Colonel, unless it's about this case. Let's try to maintain professionalism at the office, shall we?" he asked, his eyes like chips of blue ice.

Mac took a deep breath and tried again, "Okay… maybe you're right about that. So… how about tonight? I could grab a take-out and come over to your place? Or you could come to mine?"

"Nope, no can do. I already have plans for this evening."

"Oh…" Mac's shoulders drooped in disappointment, "Well how about tomorrow… we'd have all day?"

"No, going flying tomorrow… may even stay away all weekend…"

"Then dammit, Harm, when can we talk?"

Harm shrugged, "I don't know, Colonel. Take a number and when I can fit you in, I'll let you know."

Mac's anger flared and she narrowed her eyes, "Okay if that's the way you want to play it, then so be it… Commander."

"Then so be it, indeed, Colonel. Now, if you don't mind, I do have work to do!"

Harriet Sims watched with growing dismay as she noted Colonel MacKenzie's body language and the changes in her posture. Her dismay only deepened when the Colonel whirled away from the Commander's door and stalked across the bull pen to her own office, slamming her door behind her with enough force almost to make the wall shake.

**Friday, November 2****nd****, 2001  
1833hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4th Street NE, Washington DC  
(022333ZOct01)**

Harm's brooding after rhe encounter with Mac had made him temporarily forget that today Beth's watch was from sixteen hundred until twenty hundred, and it wasn't until he'd called out his usual greeting to let her know, just in case she was in the shower, that he was back and got no answer in reply that he shook his head ruefully and booted up his computer to check her schedule.

Still… he had plenty of time now for a relaxing shower and to get a meal ready for them both, if she came off-watch punctually at twenty hundred it would be at least half an hour before she got back to Fourth Street, so he could plan on sitting down to dinner by about twenty-one hundred. OK… He wandered into the bedroom, shrugging off his jacket as he did so while he mentally catalogued the contents of his fridge and dry goods shelves.

The result was that when Beth returned to the apartment, she was, over her laughing protests, hustled into the shower with the admonition that she had less than thirty minutes before dinner was served.

She emerged from the shower in jeans and t-shirt, still towel drying her hair, now let loose to fall in waves down to her shoulders, in time for Harm to serve up one of his specialties, grilled aubergines with spicy chick peas and a not too spicy walnut sauce with a side salad and pitta bread.

They ate in silence for a while – apart from Beth's murmur of appreciation – until the edge was taken off their hunger, Harm not having eaten since lunch, and Beth only having eaten a sandwich since breakfast. But there was something about the quality of Harm's silence that caused Beth to lay down her knife and fork and ask, "Okay… what's up?"

Harm swallowed his mouthful of chick peas and took a swallow of his tonic water "Up? Uh… no… nothing's 'up'", he denied.

Beth gave him a level look, "BS," she said conversationally as she picked up her knife and fork again, "I know you too well not to know when something's bothering you, but if you don't want to talk about it…" she shrugged and lapsed back into silence.

Harm glared at Beth across the island, and giving a "Humph!" of disgust he turned his eyes back towards his dinner, only to feel the weight of Beth's gaze on him.

"Well?" she queried as he looked up again.

"You're not going to let this go, are you?" he demanded.

"H'mm… let me see now… Bugging you until you come clean, or letting curiosity eat me alive… No…" she pursed her lips judiciously, "I rather think I'd prefer to bug you!"

"Elizabeth Hawkes, you are impossible!" Harm exploded.

"I try, I try…" Beth preened herself.

"Alright, then," Harm surrendered, "Mac… Colonel MacKenzie got back from her TAD today…"

Beth frowned, she had seen the attraction between Harm and Mac as far back as the Marilyn Isaacs case, and when Harm had been her driver, he had rarely stopped talking about her. True, there seemed to have been a bit of a hiccup at the time of the X-Man court martial, and then there was that whole weird thing about getting back for wedding to that Australian , which had ended with she and Harm taking that awful dunking… she shuddered at the memory of that, but even so... "I don't get it, I thought you'd be pleased to see her back?" she asked.

"Oh… I am… kinda," Harm said enigmatically.

"But?" Beth persisted.

Harm drew a deep breath, "OK.. if you must know, you must know… but you're only getting the thumb-nail version, otherwise we're going to be here all night. But first, let's get the kitchen secured and some coffee going…"

Twenty minutes later Beth gratefully accepted a cup of rose-hip and honey tea and tucked her feet up under her six as she settled on the couch, while Harm, cradling his mug of coffee, sank into one his battered armchairs.

"Well?" the petite brunette demanded.

"Well what?" Harm asked after he'd swallowed his first sip of the hot liquid.

"What did you mean that you were 'kinda' pleased to see Colonel MacKenzie return to JAG?"

"Umm… well, considering what she's been up to, I'm pleased and relieved that she's back safe and sound and in one piece… but I doubt if we'll ever get back what we had before I went flying," Harm said, and then, drawing a deep breath, he told Beth how he saw things from his side of the story, so it was nearly fifteen minutes later he concluded by saying, "And then when she more or less gave me an ultimatum, I could either keep flying, or have a relationship with her, it was a bit of a wake-up call, but she couldn't be bothered to wait for a minute or so while I formulated an answer. Turns out she was just as bad as Jordan, or Annie, or even Renée, none of them could accept me as an aviator either… I had hoped that Mac, with her own commitment to the Corps, would be more accepting, but…" he shrugged his shoulders.

Beth shook her head in disbelief, "I thought you had to be pretty bright to be an attorney, to pass law school and the bar exam. It doesn't strike me that the Colonel is being very smart over this. For God's sake, if you still want to fly after our punch-out, shouldn't that tell her something about you, about the way you feel about flying, about how important it is to you?"

"I don't know… if she'd accepted that we had a chance at a serious relationship, it's on the cards that I would have given up my flight status, I don't want any more Rabb woman to have to see that Navy sedan pull up outside their doors…Oh, God, I'm sorry Beth!" he gasped as he realised what he had just said and half started up from his chair, but Beth waved him back.

"No… no… it's okay, Hammer, I didn't get the car at the door, and I'm getting myself together again. I am, honest." She placed her hand on her tummy, "For this one's sake, if nothing else. But if you were likely to give up flying for her, what's the big deal?"

"The big deal is that she demanded it, so I could prove I was 'worthy' of her! I just don't like having a gun pointed at my head!"

"You… uh did pass your last flight physical, didn't you?" Beth asked.

"Yeah, aced it, according to the doc!" Harm grinned, "Why?"

"Can I leave answering that until I've made a call?" Beth asked with a sly grin.

"What are you up to?" Harm demanded suspiciously.

"Just trying, in my own sweet way, to make things a little better for you," Beth said. 'Hell,' she told herself, 'I can be just as enigmatic as he can, any damn day of the week!'

Digging into her purse, Beth came up with her cell phone and quickly punched in a number, "Hello, sir. This is Lieutenant Hawks, from Charlie Watch… when I came off watch this evening we were still looking for a couple of sticks to take those two 'cats down to Pensacola… Well, sir, if we're still looking, I may just have found one driver… Yes, sir. Commander Rabb, his flight status is up to date, and yes, sir, he's a pretty fair stick… he was my driver on the PH… Hold on one moment, sir…"

Beth covered her cell phone with her hand and grinned across at Harm, "Fancy going flying tomorrow?"

Harm blinked in astonishment, "Well… I was planning to go put to Leesburg to winterise Sarah… my Stearman… but if you've got me a ride in a Fourteen…" his grin widened.

Beth nodded and uncovered her phone, "Sir? Yes, he's available, ready and willing! Yes, sir, I'll let him know!" she broke the connection and stared across at Harm, a self-satisfied smirk on her face. "You're to report to the flight line ready room for briefing at zero eight hundred in the morning! If you're not sure of the way, I'll give you a lead in!"

Harm sent her a mock scowl on return, "There are only two things preventing me from coming over there and tickling you to death! The first is that I'm damn grateful to you for getting me a ride, but the second and more important reason is your little passenger!" He let his face relax, "Seriously, I am grateful. I'll grab every minute of flight time that I can, but what made you do it?"

"Well… you're a bit down, and you've made nice for me, both now and when Jason…" Beth gulped and swiped an impatient hand across her face, "Damn! I didn't mean for that to happen… so anyway, I thought I'd make nice for you for a change, go somewhere to even up the scales, kinda thing…"

"Beth, I'm not keeping score," Harm said quietly.

Beth shook her head, "No, I know, and I'm not, not really, it's just that it feels good to do something nice for you for a change."

Harm nodded, "Okay, I can buy that…"

**Saturday, November 3****rd, ****2001  
0812hrs EST  
Air Ops Briefing Room  
Joint Air Facility  
Andrews AFB, MD  
(031312ZNov01)**

"Commander Rabb?"

Harm smiled the young woman who had accosted him, "That's me," he admitted.

Lieutenant Commander Calleigh Lockhart offered her hand, "It's a pleasure to meet you, Sir. If you'll come with me I'll introduce you to your back seater of the day."

Harm had already noticed the NFO's wings on her flight suit and with an easy grin and replied, "The pleasure is all mine, Commander," and nodding at her wings asked, "But aren't you going to be my GIBS?"

Calleigh shot Harm a quick look and liking the lurking humour in his eyes risked a slight joke, "Sorry, Sir, but into each life some rain must fall!"

"Ah, so… today is to be one of dark and dreary ones, is it?" Harm responded, picking up on the quotation.

Calleigh almost stopped dead, Longfellow had always been one of her favourite poets, but she couldn't think of another naval officer, let alone an aviator, who shared her liking.

Harm grinned, the younger officer's thoughts easy to read her facial expression, "We're not all complete barbarians; granted, most of us mostly are but one or two of us manage to maintain a veneer of culture!"

Calleigh blushed, "Sorry, Sir, I meant no disrespect… I was just…"

"Surprised?" Harm grinned, "Yeah that was pretty obvious, and, there was no blood, so no foul!"

"No, Sir." She opened the door to the briefing room with two other, seated, officers trained their heads around and seeing Harm both rose to their feet.

"Commander Rabb, this is Commander Perry, call sign Striker and Lieutenant Ivanovich, call sign Boris… he's your back-seater for today."

"Gentlemen," Harm acknowledged.

"Rabb."

"Sir,"

"So… Lieutenant Commander what's your call sign?" Harm asked Calleigh.

"Believe it or not, sir, it's Ally."

"Ally?" Harm queried.

"Yeah," Calleigh muttered, "After that dumb TV show, about the smart-ass lawyers… my name's pretty similar to the actress who plays the lead female role."

"Smart-ass lawyers, hey?" Harm grinned, not all offended.

"Yeah… dumb TV show!" Calleigh grumbled, but was spared any further teasing as the door opened and Commander Perry called the room to attention, "Officer on deck!"

Commander Walden was a small, trim man, barely making the lower height limits for the Navy, Harm guessed, his shoes were brilliantly spit-shone and his peanut butters were pressed with razor sharp creases and almost creaked with the amount of starch applied to them. He had a habit of bouncing on his toes as he walked which Harm found intensely irritating, almost as irritating as the pencil thin sandy moustache he wore. Still, there must be something about him to have reached the rank he had, and then again the ribbons he wore below his wings included the DFC and the Navy Cross.

"Okay people…" he looked at each of the four flight-suited figures in turn. "This is just a delivery run. The two 'Cats going down to Pensacola are Bravos that have just come to us direct from Grumman where they've had a major avionics retro-fit to bring them up to fleet standard – the same now as the Deltas, so there's nothing on board that should be strange to pilots or RIOs."

He paused for breath, "So… no need for any heroics or deviation from the flight plan on this hop, a straight run down to Pensacola in daylight and in good weather, but RIOs make sure you pick up the final meteo report before take off. You're cleared for Angels nine all the way, there shouldn't be any need to deviate from that altitude, and RIOs watch your navigation notes, you'll divert west around Richmond, Charlotte, Atlanta and Montgomery. The 'Cats are unarmed but have full tanks, so you should arrive at Sherman field with around three thousand pounds of fuel left, enough to divert if you should need to, Stay in company all the way, Commander Perry is flight leader, Commander Rabb you will conform to his movements. Understood?"

He paused for a few seconds more and then nodded decisively, "Good!" and bounced off the podium, waving off the four officers as they stood at his departure.

Harm turned to Boris, "If you want to collect the weather updates and plot the course with Ally, then I'll go ahead and do the pre-flight, and I'll see you on the flight line in fifteen minutes, okay?"

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

**Saturday, November 3****rd****, 2001  
0830 hrs EST  
Lieutenant Colonel Sarah MacKenzie's Apartment  
3345 Reservoir Road, Georgetown  
Washington DC  
(031330ZNov01)**

Mac hadn't slept well. It wasn't just that she was madder than a wet hen over the way Harm had reacted to her yesterday, although that was a major part of her aggravation, but added to that after six months aboard the Guadalcanal her bed seemed far too large, far too soft and far too still!

But… a long hot soak in her tub, along with a generous dollop of her favourite bath oils… now that was something else, and something she had sorely missed during her six months afloat, where she had been confined to seven minute showers – enough for hygiene, but not really relaxing! She smiled to herself as she crossed to the bathroom door, and turned on the tub faucet before adding a double capful of bath oil, her smile now reflecting satisfaction as the scent of bath oil percolated through the bathroom.

Pulling off her T-shirt and stepping out of her shorts, Mac low herself into the water with a satisfied sigh and resting her head on the edge of the time closed her eyes. It wasn't many minutes before her forehead creased in a frown as her thoughts returned to the subject of Harmon Rabb; 'just who the hell does he think he is? Brushing me off like that, with his 'keep this professional' BS. How dare you talk down to me like that? I'm a Goddamn Lieutenant-Colonel in the Marines; I'm an attorney, a good, successful, attorney; I'm a grown woman, I don't have to put up with his patronising… crap!' Mac whipped up her anger, pouting like a disappointed five-year-old, totally unaware of the irony in the dissimilarities between her thoughts and her emotions as she fumed in her tub.

She had had enough. Surging to her feet, heedless of the water that slopped over the edge of the bath, she grabbed a towel and swiftly rubbed herself dry, before wrapping herself in the same towel and storming back to her bedroom.

Ten minutes later, the ends of her hair still damp she was behind the wheel of her Corvette and thanking God at Harm's plane was hanged so close to DC, Mac was heading for Leeseburg and a certain arrogant flyboy shyster, whom she intended to leave a whimpering mess in return for his cavalier treatment of her the day before.

Her mood wasn't helped by her realisation a mere twenty minutes into the drive and she hadn't even had a cup of coffee yet, nor had she bothered with breakfast, just two more things to add to her stress and anger levels. By God! That cocky sonofabitch was really going to pay!

**Saturday, November 3****rd****, 2001  
1007 hrs EST  
General Aviation Hangar  
Leesburg Executive Airport  
Leesburg, VA**

Charlie Gray, 'Chuck' to friends and family looked up from his ledger as the office door swung open to admit a tall, slender and strikingly attractive brunette dressed in a brown leather jacket over a russet turtleneck sweater and a pair of jeans seem to have been moulded to her thighs, the heels of her knee-length boots clicking in a harsh staccato rhythm as she crossed the tiled floor to the counter that divided the public area of the office from the work area.

Chuck rose to his feet, a welcoming smile on his face, "Good morning, how may I help you?"

Mac ignored the greeting and demanded peremptorily and in an icy voice, "Commander Rabb, has an airplane here, doesn't he?"

Taken aback by the lack of ceremony as well as the brusque, unfriendly manner in which the woman had asked her question, Chuck drew himself up, and replied formally, "I'm sorry, ma'am, that is privileged information. We take our clients' privacy very seriously."

Not for a single second was Mac prepared to believe what she had just been told, and narrowing her eyes she said, "Very well, he told me he was flying today, so I'll just sit here and wait for him."

Chuck took a deep breath, "Ma'am, if Mister Rabb is flying today, he isn't flying from here; I haven't seen him for nigh on a month."

Mac was still not prepared to believe what she was hearing, "I'll wait." she declared and turning, selected one of the armless easy chairs that lined the office wall facing the counter, and plumped down on the chair, her arms folded across her chest while she glared in disgust at the collection of aviation magazines, the only reading material on the low table in front of her.

It was forty-three minutes and twenty-eight seconds before Mac lost patience altogether. Rising to her feet she crossed to the counter, "When Commander Rabb deigns to show his face, tell him that Colonel Mackenzie was here looking for him, and if he values his worthless hide he is to get in touch with me before Monday morning!" And before the hapless Chuck had a chance to protest again that he hadn't seen Harm for a month, Mac turned on her heel and stormed out of the office slamming the door behind her to such effect the whole hangar nearly vibrated.

Stalking across the parking lot to her Corvette, she got behind the wheel and gunned the engine, peeling out of the parking lot and leaving twin streaks of burned rubber on the tarmac.

**Saturday, November 3****rd ****, 2001  
1113hrs EST  
Virginia Highway 267  
(031613ZNov01)**

Mac had her foot almost pressed to the floor as she tore down the left-hand lane of the VA 267, otherwise known as the Dulles Greenway, slowing only reluctantly for other vehicles ahead of her and leaning on the Corvette's horn when they were too slow in getting out of her way, each delay merely adding to the rage and frustration that was building inside her.

The sudden wailing of a police siren made her check her rear view mirror, and she felt a cold hand grip her stomach as she saw the reflection of a Virginia State Police patrol car coming up behind her, it's sirens wailing and lights flashing.

Easing her foot of the accelerator, Mac let the Corvette slow down as she crossed into the centre lane, in the hope that the police cruiser was merely trying to pass, but felt her heart sink even further as it too pulled across behind her, siren and lights still in play.

With a resigned sigh, Mac indicated right and watching for gaps in the traffic pulled into the right hand lane and then onto the shoulder of the highway, where she braked to a gentle stop, the police car pulling in behind her. Mac took her driver's licence, insurance card and registration from her purse and laid them on her lap and wound down her window, as she watched in her mirror while the State Trooper adjusted his campaign hat on his head, loosened his weapon in its holster and approached her car.

"Good, morning ma'am," he said, his breath misting in the chill air.

"Officer," Mac acknowledged him.

"Ma'am… the reason I pulled you over is that you were driving in excess of the speed limit for this stretch of the highway. Do you have any idea of the speed at which you were driving?"

"At about seventy, I guess," Mac admitted.

The trooper shook his head, "Ma'am, the speed limit hereabouts is sixty-five miles per hour. Iffen you-all had been driving at seventy I wouldn't have stopped you. Fact is ma'am, I recorded you driving at ninety-seven miles an hour. I'm afraid, I'm going to have to write you a ticket for that. Your licence, insurance and registration, please ma'am? Thank you," he added as Mac handed over the documents.

"I'm going to ask you just to sit here quietly ma'am, while I check these out." He tipped the brim of his hat and walked back to his cruiser, leaving Mac silently fuming behind the Corvette's wheel. She knew that her licence and insurance were in order and apart from the ticket, which could cost her up to two thousand dollars, the only effect of the stop would be to add time to her journey.

Mac continued to fume for the eleven minutes and thirty-two seconds it took before the trooper returned her documents and painstakingly wrote out the ticket. He handed her the pad with a courteous, "Sign here, please, ma'am," and after she had done so, he handed her a copy of the ticket, tipped his hat again and with unconscious irony said gravely, "Thank you ma'am, now drive safely and have a nice day."

Mac gritted her teeth against the screech of frustration that was her initial reaction and contented herself with a "Thank you, you too officer." Turned the key in the ignition and sedately pulled away along the shoulder until she had reached a safe enough speed to pull out into traffic, conscious the whole time of the police cruiser following her, conscious too of the increasing volume of the growling of her stomach, a reminder, as if she needed one, that she hadn't yet eaten today.

**Saturday, November 3****rd****, 2001  
1402hrs EST  
Outside Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(0301902ZNov01)**

A stop at Beltway Burgers to buy a double cheese burger with bacon, large fries and a side of coleslaw with a double thick chocolate shake and a second, brief, stop at Cherry Hill Park in Falls Church to eat her lunch was sufficient to take more than just the edge off Mac's hunger, even if it did nothing to blunt her temper. But at least she was able to then complete the drive to DC without posing a danger – well, not too much of a danger – to other road users.

Now, parked at the end of the alley outside the old warehouse Mac scowled, there was no sign of Harm's Lexus, but she wasn't too perturbed at that since he'd rented a garage after his Corvette and been stolen, unaware of course the garage was now occupied by the half-built replacement Corvette that over the last six months taken up so much of his time and disposable income.

Getting out of the car she strode across to the building's main door, and using the spare key he had entrusted her with many months ago she opened the door and let herself into the building. Casting a jaundiced eye at the antique and thoroughly unreliable elevator she took a deep breath and turned instead to the door that concealed the stairwell and steeled herself for the climb to the third floor, yet another point she fully intended to use as she tore him apart.

Arriving on the third floor she took a few seconds to take stock of the situation, and to make sure that her breathing was even – incarceration aboard ship for the past six months had made maintaining her normal high level of aerobic fitness slightly problematical – she hammered her fist against the door and waited for his reply.

Repeated assaults on the door produced no answer and reluctantly Mac accepted that there was no one at home; something else she could hold against him, and for a few seconds she toyed with the idea of using her spare key to the apartment to let herself in and wait for him inside, some instinct cautioned that my solution doing she would be ceding some of the high moral ground she had convinced herself that she held, and with a snort of disgust she turned on her heel and made her way back to the stairwell.

Returning to the car, she slumped behind the wheel and gave a few moments thought to the idea of returning home in later that evening when she figured he would return from where ever it he'd hidden self himself in order to avoid her. 'Hell no! I am a Marine, there is no way that I am quitting!' she emphatically told herself, and wrapping her arms about her she settled down to wait.

**Saturday, November 3****rd****, 2001  
1258hrs EST  
Flight Line  
Advanced Training Squadron  
Sherman Field  
Naval Air Station Pensacola, FL  
(031758ZNov01)**

"Goddam Navy!" Boris grumbled, "You'd think they'd make an exception for transiting air crew!"

Ally looked up at him from where she sprawled on the grass outside the flight line buildings, "Hell, you're just ticked 'cause you didn't get to drool over the pretty waitresses in the O club, and had to make do with no waitresses in the mess hall!" she teased him.

"Oh, no… I ain't admitting to that… well, not in front of two senior officers," Boris replied as Harm and Commander Perry walked through the door from the flight office.

"Maybe not, but I don't hear you denying it either!" Calleigh replied with a grin, and then both she and Boris scrambled to their feet as the two Commanders approached.

"At ease, guys," Geoffrey Perry commanded easily. "I've got some good news and some bad news. The good news is that I've got seats for all four of us on the next airplane heading back to Andrews, and it's a C-Twenty."

Ally grinned, that was going to be a damn sight more comfortable than the C-One Thirty she had been anticipating, and a good bit faster, "What's the bad news, then sir?"

"Wheels up isn't until fifteen thirty hours, so we're stuck here for the next two and a half hours!"

"Hell, sir," Boris drawled as he stretched on the bench, tilting his head back so that the warm Florida sun struck him in the face, and breathed a sigh of contentment, "It could be worse, it could be raining!"

**Saturday, November 3****rd****, 2001  
1524hrs EST  
Flight Line  
Advanced Training Squadron  
Sherman Field  
Naval Air Station Pensacola, FL  
(032024ZNov01)**

"Perry, Rabb, Lockhart, Ivanovich!" the flight-suited Aircrewman Petty Officer First Class called from the doorway, "Boarding now, gentlemen, ma'am!"

Harm grimaced at the bouncing spray as the downpour hammered into the pavement, "You just had to say it, didn't you, Lieutenant?" he grumbled in accusatory tones.

Boris managed a weak grin and an apologetic shrug of his shoulders, "Sorry, sir."

Shaking his head in resignation and fully aware of the hard stares that both Commander Perry and Lieutenant Lockhart were throwing at the hapless Ivanovich, Harm took a deep breath and snatching up his helmet, he dashed out into the hour-long downpour and raced for the shelter of the airplane, the other three aircrew hard on his heels.

**Saturday, November 3****rd****, 2001  
1657hrs EST  
Outside Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(032157ZNov01)**

'Two hours, fifty five minutes and twenty eight seconds, I've been sat here' Mac grumbled to herself, 'and there's not a Goddam sign of life, where is the sonofabitch?!'

The sun had long since disappeared behind the buildings to the West and as the light faded the temperature in the alley was dropping fast; a drop that Mac felt especially keenly, another result of six months in the much warmer air of the Indian Ocean and it had been a long time since that burger, too. 'Marine or not, and call me a quitter or not, I've had just had just about enough of this, and that Goddam flyboy is going to pay on Monday, with bells on!'

Leaning forward she was just about to turn the key in the ignition when a blaze of lights as a car turned into the alleyway stopped her. Peering into the gloom she let out a sigh of disappointment as the driver of the car swung it to the left and parked it nose against the old warehouse wall and she saw that it wasn't a Lexus.

Mac shrugged, turned on the engine and flicked on the Corvette's headlights just in time to illuminate the driver as she climbed out of what Mac now saw was a dark coloured Ford Focus, but it wasn't until Mac was almost level that she saw that the Ford's driver was a petite brunette in Service Dress Blues. Mac's face flamed, now she knew why Rabb had been so dismissive of her. 'The sonofabitch had moved on and didn't even have the cojones to let her know! Huh, so much for him being in love with me!' she snarled silently.

It wasn't until she was nearly all the way home that she realised that she knew the other woman, 'Damn! It was his former RIO, Lieutenant Whatshername… the one he defended at her court martial! That's got be against the regs! Ha! Gotcha Rabb!'

**Monday, November 5****th****, 2001  
0803hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(051303ZNov01)**

Mac had been watching from her office for Harm's arrival and the minute he had entered his office she was on her feet, a buff manila folder tucked under her arm. Ignoring Harriet's cheery, "Good morning, ma'am" as well as protocol, she burst into his office, back-heeling the door closed behind her, leaving the blonde Admin Lieutenant staring after her in dismay.

Harm looked around, startled at this unceremonious entry, saw who his uninvited guest was and frowned, "Colonel! This is…"

"Button it, Commander, and thank whatever Gods you worship that we weren't at work yesterday!" Mac snapped.

Harm whitened with anger at Mac's tone, but by making a massive effort he contained himself, and then letting his aviator's cocky gin spread across his face, he sank into the chair behind his desk and adopted an extravagantly relaxed, even sprawled position, he asked lightly, "Why Colonel, what's gotten your panties into a wad this fine fall morning?"

"What's got my… ? You… you..you insubordinate, lying, deceitful sin of a bitch! Dammit I _ought_ to press charges!"

Harm sat upright, "What charges?" he exclaimed stiffly.

Mac flipped open the manila folder she had brought into the office, "Knowingly Making a False statement…" she dropped a charge sheet on to the desk, "Disbodience to an Order or Regulation…." another charge sheet drifted down, "Conduct Unbecoming an Officer…" a third charge sheet slid onto the first two, "Conduct to the Prejudice of Good Order and Discipline…" a fourth sheet joined the growing pile. "Need I go on?"

"Well, it might help if I knew what the hell you were raving about, and the specifications of these so-called charges?" Harm said, still in a light, almost unconcerned voice, but his eyed were dangerously cold and Mac was too wrapped up in her self-righteous anger to notice that little detail.

She bristled, "You lied to me. You stated that you were going flying on Saturday, and you didn't; that takes care of the False Statement. Conduct Unbecoming an Officer and Disobedience to an Order, in that you are sharing accommodation with a junior officer – don't even try to deny it, I saw her enter your building myself, she had the keys to your building! Conduct Unbecoming an Officer and Conduct to the Prejudice of Good Order and Discipline – that's wrongful cohabitation with a junior office of the opposite sex!" She stopped in amazement as a deep-chested chuckle rose from Harm's chest.

"Dammit! Maybe I should just take these straight to the Admiral!" she spat, and reached for the charge sheets.

Harm slapped his hand down on the pile of paper as he suddenly bolted upright in his chair, "Not so fast… Colonel!" he gritted out and Mac almost flinched at the contempt he loaded into her title as well as the abruptness of his movement.

Harm shook his head, "Firstly, where's your evidence that I didn't go flying on Saturday?" he demanded.

"I drove down to Leesburg to speak with you on Saturday morning, and the manager of the hangar where you store your airplane told me that you weren't there, that he wasn't expecting you, and that he hadn't seen you for a month!"

Harm nodded, "Okay… and the evidence for the other charges?"

"My own eyes!

"Do tell," he invited her almost cordially.

"When I left Leesburg, I went to your apartment, and while I was waiting for you to come back from wherever it was you had run to, I saw that female Lieutenant… oh… Hawkes, is her name right? Well I saw her enter your building – with a key!"

Harm voice grew even quieter and colder, "Let's see… you drove down to Leesburg to check up on me and interrogated the manager down there, then you came back to DC and parked up outside my apartment to wait for me, and you waited long enough to see Lieutenant Hawkes return from duty to my apartment building. Now, I happen to know that Lieutenant Hawkes didn't come off watch until sixteen hundred hours, say maybe another half hour to get back to Fourth North East… you know Colonel, that sounds pretty much like you were stalking me. Perhaps we ought to take this to the Admiral, after all. Oh, and talking about the Admiral, he is fully aware of my domestic situation, but just to fill you in on the juicy details, Lieutenant Hawkes married her fiancé at the back end of July, but sadly her husband was killed on nine eleven, it was shortly after that and after she had been redeployed back on board the Patrick Henry the Lieutenant discovered she was pregnant, and was PCSd to Andrews at very short notice. The BOQ there is full and she knows no-one else in DC so she turned to me for help, and she is staying as my guest until she finds an apartment a bit nearer Andrews. And…" he paused to give his words weight, "The Admiral is fully aware of those circumstances! Now, in light of this new information, do you really want to press charges? If so, let's go to the Admiral right now, but I can assure you if we do, I will be filing a charge of stalking against you! And, yes, I was flying on Saturday, I just wasn't flying my own airplane, I was in fact ferrying an F-Fourteen from Andrews down to Pensacola!"

Mac felt her stomach lurch as she realised she had not only totally misjudged the situation but that she had also completely alienated the man sitting opposite her, but her wrong-headed Marine pride would not let her acknowledge that she had erred, and so drawing herself up she contented herself by saying witheringly, "Oh… Of course… I should have expected something like that. After all it is entirely in keeping with your previous MO, find a needy, clinging woman and then turn her into your current obsession!"

To her surprise, Harm merely laughed again and relaxed back into his chair.

"What's so damned funny?" Mac demanded.

"Oh, I was just thinking about how Skates would react if she ever heard you describe her as clinging or needy!" Harm chuckled again and then let his laughter die down as he looked across the desk at Mac, "But, unless you want to take this to the Admiral, Colonel, I strongly suggest you get the hell out of my office and stay out until you can approach me in a professional, dispassionate manner. Until that time, should it ever come, and unless on matters of duty, I really don't think that there is any further need for us to talk, at all."

Mac felt her face flame but there wasn't really anything left for her to say, and swallowing her humiliation, she contented herself with a final glare at him, she turned on her heel and marched out of his office, her eyes fixed straight ahead as she returned to her own desk, closing her office door behind her with a decided slam.

Harm watched her go and shook his head, and then his eye falling on the discarded charge sheets, he shuffled them into order and putting them into a blank manila folder then locked the folder in the top drawer of his desk.

Harriet Sims, a decidedly worried frown on her face once again from her desk in the bull pen watched Mac retreat to her office, and then turned her troubled gaze towards Harm's office, and her heart sank as she saw the expression on his face. She had never seen him look so coldly angry before.

Loren Singer paused in her photocopying and arching a delicate eyebrow murmured, just loud enough for Harriet to hear, "Well, well, well."

Harriet shot a look of intense dislike at the other blonde and snapped out, "Oh, shut up!"

A little later, at Staff Call, Admiral Chegwidden picked up on the tension between his two senior attorneys and the way they carefully avoided each other's eyes, and mentally re-arranged the case load so that they weren't for the moment working together or opposing each other on the same cases.

**Monday, November 5****th****, 2001  
1833hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(052333ZNov01)**

Harm walked in through the door of his apartment his nose immediately assailed by the smell of something cooking. He dredged up a smile as he realised that once again his day-long brooding over the contretemps with Mac had made him forget that today was the first day of Beth's stand-down, added to the fact that he'd got used to her comings and goings, and hadn't even heard her come home at nearly twenty to one this morning. But now he remembered, and he also remembered that she'd said she was going to the stores this afternoon, and that she would cook dinner. And from the aroma wafting through the apartment she had done just that.

"Hey, Beth," he greeted her cheerfully, "Watcha got a-cookin'?"

"Huh? I don't rate the 'Hey good lookin' line?" she challenged him from where she stood in front of the stove.

Harm paused in the act of hanging up his service dress jacket and took a long look at her, from the spotted bandana tied pirate-fashion around her head, and from under which a couple of tendrils of damp hair stuck to her perspiring forehead, through the ragged-sleeved and loose-hemmed T-shirt and to the baggy shapeless jogging bottoms she wore; he couldn't see her feet, standing as she was the other side of the kitchen island, but he was almost willing to bet that she was wearing a tatty looking, down-at-heel pair of carpet slippers for which she seemed to have an inordinate fondness.

He silently examined her face, satisfied, and not a little relieved that as she adjusted to her condition she was beginning to recover some of her former ebullience, little realising that his own quiet support, and the refuge he afforded her had a great deal to do with her current emotional state, putting all the credit for her recovery on the fact that she found her new duty station offering a different, and fascinating insight, into the planning of air operations, and that without the almost constant motion-induced nausea she was gaining a healthier, more balanced perspective on her life..

But as he slowly looked her over he noticed that her eyes were beginning to narrow dangerously, "Uh… no… not quite… You do look the epitome of a busy housewife, he told her, "but that whole baggy, raggedy ass look you've got going there… nuh-huh," he shook his head disparagingly.

"Ooh… just for that, I'm half-minded not to give you any dinner!" Beth fumed, although the laughter in her eyes gave away that she wasn't being serious.

"Oh… in that case, I take back everything I just said!" Harm grinned, and I kow-tow to the goddess of the kitchen!" and he made an absurdly low bow.

"Clown!" Beth scolded him, "But in answer to your first question, what we have here is a prime example of Cajun cuisine, a recipe straight from the bayous of Louisiana. You said you eat sea-food, and I could do with some protein that had legs instead of roots… so… shrimp and shellfish jambalaya! And," she added conspiratorially, "I've put a six-pack to cool in the fridge for you!"

"You going to be alright with spicy food?" Harm asked his forehead wrinkling in a concerned frown.

Beth sighed, "Yeah… I've toned the spices down by about seventy five per cent, so I just hope it retains some of the character of the original!"

Harm nodded, "Well, it still smells pretty spicy… Now… have I got time to shower and change?"

Beth glanced at the kitchen timer, "Twenty minutes?" she queried.

"Ample time," Harm agreed, his hands already loosening his neck-tie as he turned towards the bedroom.

By the time he returned to the kitchen cum dining area Beth had finished setting the places, a dish of tossed salad between them, glass of tonic water by her plate and a moisture beaded bottle of beer next to Harm's and she was on the point of serving up the main course.

Beth had baked a loaf of beer-bread to accompany the jambalaya, and had made up some mildly spiced dips to go along with it, and followed the main course with Mango ice-cream, "I can't eat healthy, every night!" Beth told him with a twinkle in her eye as she dug her spoon into her admittedly small portion of ice-cream.

"Oh… I dunno," Harm grinned back, "You're doing pretty well… I think this is the first time you've broken the rules…"

"What rules? Whose rules?" Beth demanded.

"Umm… I… ah… well… you know _the _rules…" Harm floundered helplessly, not having a ready answer.

Beth put her spoon down and gazed across the island at him, "Okay… if you, as I suspect you are, are talking about pregnancy and what is and what isn't 'safe' or 'right' let's put this in perspective… I've had my first OB appointment, and believe it or not, I _did_ listen to her. I am allowed to indulge myself _occasionally; _I am allowed the occasional treat of something sweet, I am allowed the _occasional_ cup of coffee. Basically, if I fancy something, then I am allowed it – in moderation. However, she is not a great believer in 'eating for two,' the more weight I put on while I'm carrying, the harder it's going to be to lose it after the baby is born, although I do need to make sure that my intake is enough to keep the baby and myself properly nourished…" she smiled, "And you're doing a great job on that front; thank you for that. I am allowed to continue to exercise, but no high impact exercise, so running is off my schedule, but a brisk walk is fine, as is on-road cycling, yoga and aerobics – there are special exercises for pregnant women, and swimming is especially good exercise, but a regular schedule for that is going to be difficult – given our watch schedule. Basically, Harm, I can do anything that doesn't pose a risk or cause stress to myself or the baby…."

Harm nodded, impressed at Beth's mustering her argument, "Nicely argued, counsellor, so… if you're okay to do anything that doesn't stress you… how would you like to go flying on your next free weekend?"

"Oh… that's not fair, Harm!" Beth protested, "You know I'm not allowed to fly!"

"No… no, I don't. I know you're not allowed to fly in an ejection seat, and after all even after the Navy found out you were pregnant, you flew."

"I did not!" Beth argued, "I told you that I was grounded… Oh… yes… yes, I did fly didn't I?" her expression changed to a slow smile as she realised what Harm was saying. "Of course I flew, in that COD from the boat to Naples and then the C-171 from Naples to Andrews!"

"Exactly!" Harm agreed.

"Oh… in that case, I'd love to! But…"a frown replaced the smile, "the Stearman's got an open cockpit… it'll be far too cold!"

"Ah… but I'm going out to Leesburg a couple of evenings this week to winterise her so we wouldn't be flying in her. But I know a guy who's got a T6/SNJ trainer out at Leesburg… and he's offered to let me take her up once in a while on quid pro quo basis… So if I promised a nice, quiet sedate flight with no high-G turns or extravagant aerobatics, what do you say?"

"Sounds great! Beth enthused her eyes dancing with anticipation, "Let me check… she grabbed her purse and pulled out her diary, "Yep, as I thought, my first free weekend is the seventeenth and eighteenth! But, can I check with my OB first?"

"Of course you can! But… there's something else as well. Harriet Sims – you remember her? Blonde Lieutenant, our Admin Officer, she's married to Bud Roberts?"

Beth nodded.

"You do? Good. Well, I asked her for help in looking up some suitable apartments for you – she's got a little boy of her own, and she knows exactly the sort of thing you say you need. Anyway, she's come up with a list of properties and downloaded the details from the internet, and she has even marked them in what would be her order of preference."

Harm reached down and picked up his briefcase from where he'd left it next to the chair, and opening it, he pulled out a manila folder, "Now, the first property…"


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

**Monday, November 19****th****, 2001  
1314hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church VA  
(191814ZNov01)**

Admiral A J Chegwidden was not a happy man, and the cause of his present unhappiness was the slightly cooler than arctic atmosphere in JAG Ops, directly attributable to what seemed to be an undeclared, if very cold, war between his two senior attorneys. Stalking across the bull pen he sent anger-filled glares in the direction of both Mac and Harm's offices, where, as was now usual, both had their doors firmly closed against intrusion.

It wasn't as if Rabb and MacKenzie butting heads was all that unusual, there had, in the past, been some spectacular arguments between the two attorneys, but at least those arguments had succeeded for the most part in lancing whatever boil was plaguing them at the time. But this time around it had gone on, silently, but thoroughly poisoning the atmosphere at JAG, for two weeks and that was more than the choleric senior officer was going to tolerate.

He waved off Tiner's attempt to come to attention as he entered the Yeoman's cubby hole of an outer office and reached for the door handle of his inner sanctum but then paused as a thought struck him, "Tiner, pass the word for Lieutenant Sims – to report to me ASAP!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!" his Yeoman responded crisply.

Chegwidden had resolved to put an end to this… friction between Rabb and MacKenzie and much as he disliked interfering in his subordinate's private lives, once their personal problem spilled over into the professional arena, then he was damn' well going to. He had been on the point of having his Yeoman summon the two protagonists so that he could hand them both a reaming that would have sent them heading for the hills at a high rate of knots when the old maxim that time spent on reconnaissance was never wasted came to mind, and of ever he needed intel on a situation it was now; and as far as Rabb and MacKenzie were concerned the finest source of intel was Lieutenant Harriet Sims!

The awaited knock at his door he answered with a curt "Enter!" and he watched the nervous young officer cross the expanse of carpet to stand at attention in front of his desk.

"At ease, Lieutenant, and take a seat!" he invited her gruffly.

Once again when told to be seated Harriet breathed a silent sigh of relief, she wasn't aware of anything that she had done that would warrant being summoned to the Admiral's office, but she still felt like a delinquent high school junior being summoned to face the principal.

Chegwidden waited until the Lieutenant had settled and then peered across the top of his reading glass at her, "Harriet, just what the hell is the matter between the Commander and the Colonel, this time? I thought he'd have been happy now that she's back from her TAD?"

Harriet fluttered her hands in a vague, almost helpless gesture, "I don't really know, sir. Really. They're both being infuriatingly close mouthed about it, all I know is that the Commander wasn't happy when he came back from the Guadalcanal, but he seemed to be getting over whatever had upset him on board, and then came all that…. With the… you know, sir, nine elven, well, it knocked us all sideways… and I think he was really worried about the Colonel over that Consulate thing. But when she came back, he wasn't particularly welcoming, and then two weeks ago, her first Monday back, she … the Colonel, sir, didn't really give him any time at all to get settled in, the moment he got to his office she went after him, and although there wasn't any shouting, it was pretty obvious that the Colonel was mad at him, and since then, sir… well… it's been like the North Pole out there."

Chegwidden blinked in disbelief. He was pretty sure that Lieutenant Sims hadn't, out of concern for her friends' privacy, given him a full and accurate account of what she knew. "Are you trying to tell me, Lieutenant, that somehow over the course of a single weekend, the Commander managed to push the Colonel's buttons so badly that it is all she can do to be civil to him if they have to speak with each other on points of duty?"

Harriet's hands fluttered again, "Sir… I can't answer that question fully. The Colonel came to dinner on that first Sunday after she returned from her TAD, and she was blazingly angry then; I don't know why, and she wasn't, and still isn't speaking about it!"

Chegwidden eyed her doubtfully, without actually calling her a liar, he was forced to accept the blonde's word, and if she was being less than totally forthcoming, then it was only because she was being loyal to her friends, even if that loyalty was based on the fact, as Chegwidden was beginning to think, that both Rabb and MacKenzie were at fault.

"Very well, Lieutenant, thank you for being as open with me as you have been. Dismissed!"

Harriet jumped to her feet, thankful to have gotten off as lightly as she had, "Aye, aye, sir!" she rapped out before making an about-face and heading for the door. But as she turned the door handle she was struck by the dreadful thought that the Admiral was now also displeased with her. 'If he is, then it's just too bad,' she told herself, 'I can't betray my friends, even when they're both behaving like asses!'

Chegwidden watched her go, a thoughtful expression on his face as he mulled over what little information he had gleaned. It seemed that the current rift between Rabb and MacKenzie had its roots in the case aboard the Guadalcanal. He shook his head in disbelief, after the way MacKenzie had acted when Rabb went down on his way back for her wedding, this complete volte face on her part just didn't seem feasible, not without some major provocation. 'Yes, that's it. I don't care exactly what happened; it had to have been Rabb's fault!' He reached out and pressed the intercom button, "Tiner, is Commander Rabb in the office?"

"_Yes, sir_!"

"Good! Pass the word for him to report to me, ASAP!"

"_Aye, aye, sir_!"

Chegwidden waited, not quite patiently for his errant officer to appear, and when he did, snapping to attention in front of the Admiral's desk, the senior officer regarding him with dark, unfriendly eyes, "Commander, it seems you have a problem with Colonel MacKenzie, and your behaviour is affecting the good order and discipline of this office. Fix it!"

The answer he got was not the crisp "Aye, aye, sir!" he had expected but a firm, "Permission to speak freely, sir?"

It took an immense effort of will for the Admiral not to leap to his feet and demand what the hell the junior officer meant. But he bit back on his anger for the moment and asked, "Just what do you think you can say that will make a difference to the order I just gave you Commander?"

"Sir, with respect, the current difficulty between the Colonel and I is not of my making. Not this time, sir. And also, with respect sir, the only person in this headquarters with whom I have a problem is the Colonel. My relations with the rest of the staff are as they have always been, so I fail to see how my actions can be construed as affecting good order and discipline. Sir!"

Chegwidden sat back in his chair, resting his elbows on its arms an steepling his fingers, he was still annoyed – damned annoyed – at Rabb, but the younger man's words gave him pause to think. What Rabb had just claimed was true; his interactions with the remainder of Ops staff were as they had always been, amicable. In fact he knew, and Rabb wasn't aware that he knew, the Commander had just saved two promising careers by having a quiet word with Major Jackie Fisher, the security detachment OIC, and persuading him that instead of charging them both with fraternisation, to give leave to Lance Corporal Kim and PFC Andrea Burchell, to allow the two young Marines to marry before Burchell's increasing girth became obvious. Of course, one of the two would have to be posted out… but… Chegwidden gave an impatient shake of his head… all that was neither here nor there. But if Rabb's recent behaviour had had any effect on discipline or morale generally, it was a beneficial effect. No… in this case the disruptive element was MacKenzie.

Chegwidden sighed, "Stand easy, Commander," and he waited until Rabb had assumed the 'Parade Rest' position, "At ease. Just what the hell, happened between you and the Colonel, Rabb?"

Rabb relaxed and grinned mirthlessly, "I finally pulled my head out of my six, sir. Despite the mutual attraction between the Colonel and I something was said that made me realise that there was no, and could never be, a joint future for us. I moved on… well, I am trying to move on… and the Colonel is having a hard time accepting my decision, sir. I… at least, that's the way I see it, sir."

Chegwidden sat forward, resting his forearms on his desk and peered at Rabb over the top of his spectacles, much as he had earlier looked at Harriet Sims. "Even so…" he said quietly, "Would an apology to the Colonel from you go any way towards making life around here a little easier for everyone? And if so, for the sake of restoring peace and tranquillity to this mad-house, would you be prepared to make such an apology?"

Harm shifted uncomfortably, "Sir, I honestly believe that there is nothing for which I can apologise. If I apologise for deciding that the Colonel and I have no shared future, then it is quite probable that she will take further offence at what she could quite easily call my arrogance in assuming, in even daring to think, that we might at one stage have had a future. And I honestly don't believe that there is anything else for which I need apologise."

"I could order you to make any apology, Commander," Chegwidden said evenly.

"Yes, sir, you could, but I doubt it would work. Colonel MacKenzie is not stupid, and she knows me well enough to be able to pick up the slightest nuance of insincerity in my voice and besides, sir, for what would you have me apologise?"

Chegwidden appeared to mull over Harm's words, but just as he looked up, apparently about to speak the intercom buzzed. His already exacerbated temper rising rapidly, Chegwidden stabbed the intercom button with an impatient finger, and in a voice fully loaded with displeasure he rasped out, "Dammit, Tiner, I said I wasn't to be interrupted!"

"_Yes, sir, I know, sir… but Admiral Morris is here and says he needs to speak with you immediately… sir, and he wouldn't take no for an answer, sir…_" Tiner's voice faded out miserably.

"Very well, Tiner." Chegwidden glared up at Rabb, "This conversation isn't over yet, Commander. Make sure you keep Tiner apprised of your movements until we have a chance to finish it. Dismissed!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Rabb snapped to attention and paused before performing an immaculate heel and toe about face and making for the door.

Despite himself, Chegwidden grinned slightly as he watched his junior almost flee from the office. But composed himself as the second Rabb disappeared through the door Rear Admiral (Lower Half) Stiles Morris appeared, and as befitted the imperative that had brought him here, there was a distinct lack of humour on the Chief Judge's face.

Chegwidden stood as a matter of courtesy and waved his visitor to a chair, "Take a seat, Stiles, and tell me what caused you to browbeat my Yeoman into disobeying his orders?" he invited mildly.

Admiral Morris dropped into the chair indicated and looked across at the JAG, "What brings me here is Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie, sir!"

Chegwidden re-seated himself with a silent groan, but pinched the bridge of his nose in what he already knew was a futile effort to ward off a headache that had just started to throb behind his eyes. "Go on," he said wearily, "And forget the, sir, bit Stiles, we know each other well enough to use first names."

"That we do," the African-American officer agreed,. "But as this is a formal complaint, perhaps we had better stick to the formalities, sir."

"Is it that bad?" A J asked.

"Sir, as you know, I'm presiding over the McCutcheon negligently hazarding an airplane case, and Colonel MacKenzie is supposed to be defending him…"

Chegwidden nodded, wondering, not for the first time, given the Colonel's past attitude to pilots in general, if he really had been thinking when he assigned MacKenzie to defend an aviator charged with negligently hazarding his airplane.

"Go on."

"One of the Colonel's witnesses for the defence is a Lieutenant Commander Lockhart, McCutcheon's RIO on the day of the alleged negligence, and three times yesterday, and again this morning, I've had to caution MacKenzie against badgering or harassing her own witness. Quite honestly, sir…" he caught Chegwidden's arched eyebrow and hastily corrected himself, "Uh…A J… uh… she's so flustering Commander Lockhart that she's discrediting her own witness' testimony and generally mishandling the defence to such an extent that she's in danger of handing the case to Mattoni on a platter. And if she does…" he paused significantly, "then I would fully expect McCutcheon to petition for another attorney and bring a complaint of inadequate defence against the Colonel, and that, as we both know, would be a career stopper, if not a career killer."

Chegwidden winced, this was not good hearing, "What time are you re-convening, Stiles, I'll look in on the case when you do so I can see exactly what she's playing at…" a thought struck him, "It could all be part of her trial strategy… No?" he finished sadly as Morris shook his head.

"No, A J, and I'm afraid that's not all. I have just reprimanded the Colonel for the manner in which she treated and spoke to my Legalman, and from what I hear, that was in the manner in which she seems to have become accustomed to treating enlisted personnel over the past few weeks. I had hoped that would be the end of it, but Legalman One Andrews is seeking official redress, and has submitted to me her official complaint as per article eleven fifty of Navy Regulations." He slipped a hand inside his Service Dress jacket and produced a white envelope which he slid across the desk to Chegwidden, "Go ahead. It's open; read it, I already have."

Chegwidden drew a despairing hand down his face, Andrews was a level-headed woman, extremely competent, about thirty years old, married with two children, and as befitted a senior petty officer whose name had just been submitted to the next selection board for promotion to Legalman Chief Petty Officer, was not the sort of sailor to submit frivolous, irrelevant or petty grievances for redress.

He read Andrews' complaint with growing disbelief, it seemed that MacKenzie had totally lost all sense of decorum and had berated Andrews in public for something which Andrews maintained was not her fault, and had ended her tirade by calling the Legalman a 'useless, inefficient, lazy, lying bitch.'

Chegwidden finished reading the complaint, his face growing longer as he did so. The only light at the end of what looked like a very long and very dark tunnel was that the only redress Andrews requested was that MacKenzie make a full and open apology to her, in front of the same witnesses who had been present during the Colonel's verbal assault.

Chegwidden desperately looked for some mitigating factor in MacKenzie's alleged conduct and looked across the desk at Morris, "Is there any reason to believe that, despite the unofficerlike language she used, there is any justice in MacKenzie's initial accusation?"

Morris shook his head. "No, that was the first thing I queried with Andrews. She produced documentary proof that the initial error was in fact Colonel Mackenzie's."

"What was the error?"

"A name missing off the witness list. When MacKenzie called the witness, Mattoni quite properly challenged on the grounds that the witness name hadn't been submitted to trial counsel. I upheld the challenge because MacKenzie couldn't give adequate reason for the name to be missing from the docket. MacKenzie apparently decided that it was Andrews' fault, and when I adjourned the court she confronted my Legalman. Andrews was able to show me that the list of witnesses on the docket was identical to the list that MacKenzie had initially submitted." Morris shrugged his shoulders and held out his hands palm upwards.

Chegwidden buried his face in his hands for a few moments, "Stiles, this is one hell of a mess!" he said when he finally lifted his head. "You realise that these are just two instances of MacKenzie's behaviour that have come to light in the last couple of weeks… And it's… it's just not like her. I'm beginning to wonder if that Consulate incident in Aceh might have triggered some sort of adverse psychological reaction…."

"Don't go looking for excuses for her A J. In my opinion, the woman is out of control." He looked with some sympathy at the JAG while thinking, 'And to some extent you've brought this on her, and on yourself. You've let her get away with so much crap that she thinks she's entitled to do or say anything she pleases and won't have to face the consequences.'

Chegwidden glared sourly at Morris, he had a pretty fair idea of what the other officer was thinking, if only because he was beginning to think the same things himself. "Okay, Stiles, I'll have MacKenzie in, and we'll get to the bottom of this, and if I find that Andrews' complaint is upheld, then I assure you a full, sincere and public apology will be made. Although," he added with a sigh, "It's going to play hell with MacKenzie's authority in the future, especially as she's my Chief of Staff. Okay then… have your Legalman deliver all the relevant case documents to my Yeoman and I will look through them. If she can get them to me by secure today, I'll have my answer for you by secure tomorrow."

Morris nodded, "Will do. There's just one more thing, A J…"

Chegwidden groaned, "What?"

"Unless you want McCutcheon to appeal this case, I suggest you consider replacing MacKenzie as defence counsel." He looked at his watch, "Court re-convenes at fifteen hundred," he added in an oblique reminder of Chegwidden's remark about sitting in at the next session.

"I'll be there!" Chegwidden affirmed.

"I'll leave it all with you then, A J," Morris climbed to his feet and gave a short nod of his head in farewell before he turned and left the office.

Chegwidden slipped quietly into the rear row of seats in Courtroom Number Two where he sat in growing dismay as he heard Mac mangle her own direct of her witness and then as Alan Mattoni picked up on every error she had made during his cross-examination. He could hardly bring himself to believe that he was listening to one of his top attorneys making more of a mess of case than would a first year law student in moot court. He could hardly blame Mattoni, he had smelled the blood in the water and like any shark was making lightning attacks, biting off chunk after chunk of evidence and chewing it up. And it was MacKenzie's fault for leaving him so many tempting morsels.

Fortunately direct and cross took up over an hour of the court's time and when Mac, much to Chegwidden's horror, turned down Judge Morris' offer to re-direct, Judge Morris adjourned the court until zero nine hundred hours the following morning.

One look at the dissatisfied expression on Lieutenant Commander McCutcheon's face as he and Mac engaged in furious low-volume conversation was enough to confirm Chegwidden's tentative decision. He would have to replace Mac as defence counsel. The way she was going and if today's performance was any guide, she was digging her own grave deeper every minute she spent in court.

A J dug out his notebook and hastily scribbled a note, which he passed to one of the Marine Bailiffs, "Take this to Colonel MacKenzie, now!" he rasped before he got to his feet and stalked out of the court room.

Two minutes later he stopped at Tiner's desk as that young man leaped to his feet, "Tiner, pass the word for Commander Turner, and when he gets here, tell him from me to stand-by. In the meantime, I'm expecting Colonel MacKenzie and Lieutenant Commander McCutcheon. When they get here, send them straight in to me!"

"Aye, aye, sir!" Tiner responded crisply, wondering what bug had bitten the admiral that he hadn't, as per his usual practice, waved his Yeoman back into his seat, and wincing when the admiral closed his inner office door with something that didn't sound too far off a slam.

Chegwidden's brusque note bought results in under five minutes as a double knock at his door announced the arrival of the two officers he had summoned, both of whom stalked, rather than marched across the space between door and desk once he had bidden them to enter. Both officers halted at attention as Mac announced them, "Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie and Lieutenant Commander McCutcheon reporting as ordered, sir!"

Chegwidden sat upright in his chair as he absorbed the tension radiating off both officers, and noted the physical distance between them, and then to Mac's surprise when he spoke it was to McCutcheon, "Commander McCutcheon, are you satisfied that Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie is mounting an adequate defence on your behalf?"

Mac looked as if she'd been struck by lightning and then the blood drained from her face as she heard McCutcheon respond.

"No sir, I am not at all satisfied."

"Thank you, Commander. You are dismissed for the moment, but please wait in the outer office; I shall need to speak with you further."

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Chegwidden waited until the door had closed behind the aviator before he turned his eyes towards Mac, "Colonel, I am severing you from this case, with immediate effect, and I am placing you on disembarkation leave… post-deployment leave… whatever the hell you want to call it for two weeks. During that time you will seek counselling, either through the Navy at Bethesda or with a private therapist of your own choice, to help you to try to cope with what are obvious anger issues that have not only soured the atmosphere in Ops, but also alienated both Judge Morris and his Legalman to the extent that she has submitted a formal complaint in accordance with article eleven fifty of the regulations. In addition, I observed your performance in court this afternoon and it was pitiful! A first year law student wouldn't have… couldn't have made a bigger hash of this afternoon! When you leave this office, you will hand over all your case notes to Commander Turner. While you are on leave, I shall investigate the redress of grievance that has been raised against you by Legalman One Andrews, and if I find that there is sufficient evidence to uphold her grievance, I will require you to make a formal apology to her. Is that understood?"

"Sir, This is unfair…" Mac started to protest.

Chegwidden almost leaped to his feet and slammed an open palmed hand down on the surface of the desk, "No! It is not unfair Colonel! It is an attempt to save your sorry ass! Admiral Morris was that close," he held up a finger and thumb that were only just not touching, "to charging you with contempt of court, and his Legalman has filed a redress of grievance against you. If I allow you to continue in this case, it is very probable that Commander McCutcheon will be found guilty, not necessarily because he is guilty, but because you are screwing the pooch. If he is found guilty I can almost guarantee that he will appeal the finding, citing inadequate defence counsel, and if he does and the appellate court agrees, then I am also pretty sure that he will demand that the officer with Court Martial authority over you charges you with dereliction of duty, and that officer, me, would be obliged to do so. Furthermore, I will require written proof from whichever counsellor you decide to see that you are returning to an even keel."

"Sir… that's going to mark my career as over…" Mac tried again.

"No, Colonel, it will not. It will slow you down for a year, maybe two, but it will not mean you being dismissed from the service or serving brig time, or being disbarred, all of which are probable consequences of being found guilty of dereliction of duty."

The admiral sat down again and leaning both elbows on the desk, passed both hands over his scalp before he spoke again, but in a quieter tone, "Mac, I'm choosing to believe that your aberrant behaviour is the result if your experiences in Aceh, and is not due to any disgruntlement you feel because your personal life is not going in the direction in which you had expected it to. Because," and his voice hardened once more, "If I thought that was the case I would have already charged you with conduct to the prejudice! Do you understand me, Colonel?"

"Sir, yes, I understand, but…"

"But nothing, Colonel. You can accept my decision or not. If you choose not to accept it, you have two options, you can choose to disobey my orders, in which case you will find yourself facing a general court martial, or you can resign here and now, and proceed on terminal leave today. The choice is yours, Colonel."

For a split second as her anger flared Mac was tempted to tell the old fool that she resigned, but a second thought brought her up sharply, she was a Marine. She defined herself as a Marine first and an attorney second. Where would she be, what would she be without the Corps to give her direction. She stiffened her brace even further, "Sir, I will not disobey your orders!"

"Good! Now, go and prepare your hand over for Commander Turner, and on your way out ask the Commander and Commander McCutcheon to come on!" Dismissed!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Harm stride down the corridor from Courtroom Number One, a shit-eating grin on his face as he reflected on how he had just totally disrupted Carolyn Imes' case. He just loved it when a plan came together and he successfully pulled a magic rabbit out of his hat. But Carolyn should have known better, she should have followed up the witness statement that the accused's car was not at the scene of the accident, because it was parked up precisely where the accused had said all along, outside the witness' house nearly eight miles from the scene of the hit and run. His grin vanished as he spied a disconsolate figure wandering idly down the corridor in front of him, a figure that he thought, despite it being in different surroundings that he thought he knew, "Ally?" he queried.

Lieutenant Commander Calleigh Lockhart spun around at the unexpected sound of her call sign being used in this building, and for a moment she stared blankly at the tall Commander smiling at her, and then she recognised him, "Hammer!... Uh… sir! What are you doing here? Are you here for the McCutcheon case?"

"No… I work here, but why are you here?"

Ally managed a weak grin, "I am here for the case, and I'm a defence witness, but…" she sighed heavily.

"Hey, why the long face? Who's got his case?"

"Colonel MacKenzie, sir, and it's not going well…"

Harm shook his head, "Mac, Colonel MacKenzie is a fine attorney, none better, if anyone can pull off a hopeless case, it's her." He said in an encouraging voice.

"That's just the problem, sir. It's the Colonel that's sinking the case!"

Harm looked around, startled, and not wanting anybody else to hear, "Easy there. Ally, what do you mean? Are you in any position to judge?"

Calleigh lowered her voice, "Sir, I may not be a lawyer, but I can tell when somebody's out of their depth and floundering. And for whatever reason, it seems to me that Colonel MacKenzie's head isn't in the game, and Chris, Commander McCutcheon isn't happy either. No, he hasn't said anything, but I know him pretty well, and his expression, his body language… it's all wrong…"

Harm looked down into her eyes; there was no sign of subterfuge just what appeared to be genuine worry on behalf of McCutcheon. "Okay… let's say for the moment that I agree you have cause for concern, but court's over for the day, what are you doing here still?"

"I'm Chris' ride back to Andrews, sir, and I'm waiting for him. He's with the Admiral, or…"

"I see… well, you can't just hang around the hallways… can I fix you a cup of coffee?"

Sensing a change in Harm's attitude, Calleigh ventured a shy smile, "Yes, please, sir," she replied, all at once sounding much younger than her twenty-some years.

"Well follow me, Commander," Harm grinned and led her to the break room, where he saw to his pleased surprise that for once thee was coffee on the already brewed on the jug. Pouring two cups and adding cream to Calleigh's coffee, he guided her to his office and invited her to wait there for McCutcheon.

A short interval later saw Sturgis Turner and Lieutenant Commander McCutcheon walk out int the bull-pen, where they exchanged a few words before they shook hands and McCutcheon turned to leave the room. Calleigh hastily put her mug down on Harm's desk and with a cursory, "By your leave, sir," she shot put into the bull-pen, calling "Commander!"

McCutcheon and Turner both turned, the former to grin at the sight of the young woman hurrying towards him and the latter allowing a smile to flit across his face before he turned towards Mac's office only to find his path blocked by six feet four inches of naval aviator turned attorney.

"Something I can do for you, buddy?" he asked in his deep, smooth voice, "I am in a bit of a hurry."

"Yeah, what's going on, Sturg?"

Sturgis Turner frowned, "It seems that Mac has royally screwed the pooch in this case, and the admiral has severed her. I get to pick up the pieces. So, if you'll excuse me, old buddy, I need to get the case file from Mac. And then I suspect I have a long night ahead of me. I only hope I can persuade Judge Morris to grant a continuance!"

"Ah, that explains why I wasn't tapped for this case…."

Sturgis raised a questioning eyebrow and Harm continued, "The Admiral usually hands off aviation related cases to me, but Admiral Morris is unlikely to look favourably on any requests I might make, so it makes sense for someone else to take over…"

Sturgis grinned, "He's still holding a grudge over that MP-Five?"

"Well I wouldn't exactly call it a grudge…" Harm grinned in embarrassment as Sturgis gave a shake of his head and turned away.

"Well, what would you call it?" He called back over his shoulder, "No… don't bother answering, it was a rhetorical question!" and he grinned at Harm.

"Get outta here! Damn preacher's kid!" Harm threw at him, and grinned back.

**Monday, November 19****th****, 2001  
2014hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(200114ZNov01)**

"Umm… Harm?" Beth asked somewhat diffidently as she dried the last of the dinner dishes.

Harm paused in the act of putting the flatware back in its drawer, "Yeah?"

"Umm… could you come out to Andrews tomorrow, after secure?" she asked in a shy voice, and avoiding his gaze.

"Of course!" Harm replied instantly, and then frowned slightly, "Is there a problem?"

"Oh, no, no. Nothing like that!" Beth quickly assured him, "It's just that I think I may have found an apartment, and I'd like a second opinion on it, your opinion."

"Sure…" Harm said, but felt a sinking feeling in his gut, he'd not only gotten used to having Beth around, he also liked having her around and although he knew she would be leaving sooner or later the thought of her departure being sooner rather than later filled him with dismay. "But what's the rush?" he asked.

Beth did turn to face him now as she handed him the last two plates to be returned to their stowage, "Harm, I'm four months gone, now…" she pulled her t-shirt tight over her now noticeably rounded tummy, and pretty soon I won't be able to cope with moving, and anyway I'd rather be settled somewhere for Christmas…"

"Oh… If you weren't on watch, I was kinda hoping that he could spend Christmas together…" Harm said somewhat lamely.

Beth dried her hands and nodded towards the lounge area, "Why don't we sit down?" she suggested.

Harm nodded, trying not to let his unhappiness show, and followed her out of the kitchen, taking his now accustomed seat in 'his' armchair while Beth settled into her permanently placed nest of throw pillows on the couch.

"Well… unless things change, I will be off watch on December twenty-third, twenty-fourth and twenty-fifth, and I would love to spend the holiday with you… I might even be able to persuade you to eat a morsel or two of turkey," Beth grinned, "But although you've been a good friend to me, allowing me to stay here, we both know that I need to find my own place."

"Oh, I know, I know…" Harm spread his hands helplessly, "I just wish that it didn't have to be quite so soon, and that you weren't looking to move quite so far away…"

"It's not that far, Harm!" Beth laughingly protested, "Only half an hour or so, if that!"

"That's plenty far enough if I need to be there in a hurry!" Harm objected.

"Harm, there are excellent OB facilities at the base medical centre, and if, God forbid, anything should go wrong they have their own EMTs and ambulance crews. In fact, I'll be nearer medical help there than I will be here!" she finished.

"Yeah… but you won't be near me! But… you're also right." Harm admitted helplessly, "If you need help then it's better for you to be nearer there than here… but I don't have to like it!" he said grudgingly.

"You are obviously preparing for promotion!" Beth laughingly admonished him, "You are becoming more grumpy and more captainy every day!"

"Captainy?" Harm queried through a snort of laughter, "Is there even such a word?"

"Of course there is, I just said it!" Beth replied mischievously.

Harm sat back, relaxed and smiled, although he knew that Beth still missed and mourned her dead husband, her flashes of humour were beginning to return and he was happy for her that she seemed to be moving forward with her life, although he knew, knowing her as well as he did, that she would always remember Jason Mitchell.

Beth noticed his smile and decided to press her advantage, "So… you'll meet me after secure tomorrow?" she persisted.

"Of course I will, but I won't be able to get away until seventeen hundred, so it's likely to be nearly eighteen hundred by the time I get to the flight offices."

Beth nodded, "That's okay, I can always get a cup of tea in the galley while I wait for you."

"Yeah… and you know… if we're going to be looking at this apartment, we're not going to have much time for cooking, so we could stop on the way home, or get a carry out from somewhere?"

"Or we could just order in once we get back," Beth amended with a smile.

"Anyone would think you don't want to be seen in public with me," Harm teased her.

"It's a wonder that you want to be seen in public with me!" Beth shot back with a rueful glance down at her expanding waistline. "You know, I really think it's about time I switched to the maternity uniform. My skirts are getting really snug and I'm really struggling to fasten my jacket these days…"

"Well, I think you look fantastic!" Harm disagreed, "and just to make you feel a little better, how about a foot rub?"

Beth's eyes lit up like those of a twelve-year old who had just been promised a birthday treat, "Ooh… yes, please!" she enthused.

"Well, you sit still then, while I go get the oils and a towel!" Harm grinned.

"You certainly know how to sweet talk a gal!" Beth smiled back at him.

**Tuesday, November 20****th****, 2001  
1842hrs EST  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(202342ZNov01)**

"Any special reason for choosing this place first?" Harm asked as he got out of the Lexus and walked the few feet to where Skates was clambering out of the Focus.

"Nothing really," Skates puffed as she stood up, pressing a fist into the small of her back, "Just that of the short list, it's nearest to Andrews and furthest from DC, so it made sense to start at the outer edge and work in, besides…"

"Besides what?" Harm asked almost suspiciously.

"Besides… I had a sort of instinct… a gut feeling about this place…" she caught Harm's eye wandering down to her bump and scowled at him, "Don't even think about it, Mister!"

"I was only going to ask whether you had a sort of hump… uh… I mean a hunch," he said with a completely assumed air of innocence.

"Gonna get you for that!" Beth growled, "Maybe not today, and maybe not tomorrow, but someday soon…"

"Oh, well," Harem said shrugging off her threat and his teasing manner at the same time, "shall we?" and offered her his arm as they walked up the path towards the building.

They were met at the door by the letting agent, a briskly affable man in his fifties, who greeted them with a warm smile and an outstretch hand, "Mister and Mrs… oh… no, I beg your pardon. Commander and Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell?"

"Uh… no… I'm Commander Rabb, and this is Lieutenant… Oof!"

"Hawkes-Mitchell," Beth finished for him with a sideways glare and an elbow to Harm's ribs. "I'm the prospective tenant, Commander Rabb is a friend and he's just here to lend me moral support. Aren't you?" she finished with a challenging look at Harm.

"Yes, dear," Harm said in a long-suffering voice, which brought a grin to the agent's face and a murderous look to Beth's.

"You really are piling up the score!" she muttered to him as the agent turned the key in the lock.

"Well, I'm Richard Badbury," he introduced himself as he turned back to the couple. He had recognised them as a couple the second he laid eyes on them, even if they failed to see it or acknowledge the fact. "The place is built on two floors, what the Brits call a maisonette. This property has the first and second floors, while the property above, which has its own entrance at the side of the building, has the third floor and a loft conversion. Downstairs is the kitchen cum dining room, a lounge, a bathroom with utility room attached, and a third room, which I've been using as an office."

He grinned at their evident surprise, "I'm not an agent, I actually own the place. I bought it as a home for my wife and myself for my last assignment, after the kids moved out, but Marie, my wife, had a fall last fall and broke her hip. The winter was tough on her, really tough, so now she's able to move again we've bought a place in Florida and converted this place into two two-floor apartments…"

Harm looked around the entry lobby, its hardwood floor won his immediate approval and the staircase leading to the second floor wasn't too steep, curving gracefully around two of the lobby's walls. Nodding in approval Harm followed Beth as Badbury led them through to the living area, still furnished with a three piece suite and a coffee table, while through an archway they could see kitchen stools positioned around a kitchen island.

Badbury followed their line of sight and explained, "You can't see it from here, but just to the right of the archway is a table and four chairs if you'd prefer to sit down to your dinner like Christians…" he grinned, letting them know that he wasn't, not for a minute, buying the 'just friends' tag that Beth had claimed.

Beth and Harm just looked at each other, figuring that it wasn't worth their breath denying his implicit accusation.

Badbury continued his guided tour of the property, pointing out one or two minor faults as well as the apartment's good points, chief among which, as far as Beth was concerned, was that the washing machine and the dryer in the utility room would be left for the tenant's use. The two bedrooms on the second floor were both big enough for king-sized beds and offered plenty of built-in storage space, even if they didn't quite afford the luxury of walk-in closets, and while the downstairs bathroom contained only a WC and a shower, the bathroom on the upper floor was spacious an in addition to the shower also had a rather old-fashioned claw foot tub, while the shower stall was big enough to take a shower chair. "It was pretty much a necessity after Elizabeth broke her hip last year," Mr Badbury explained.

"Your wife's name is Elizabeth?" Harm queried, "So is the Lieutenant's!" he exclaimed, ignoring the glare that Beth sent him, while she tried to ignore Badbury's grin.

After about half an hour, Badbury led them back into the kitchen, and drew out a chair for Beth, who accepted it with a grateful smile and a sigh of relief as she took the weight off her feet.

"Well, I reckon I've shown you everything there is." Mr Badbury announced, "So, do you have any questions for me?"

Beth opened her mouth to ask about utilities, but Harm got there before she could speak, "How long does it take to get to Bethesda Naval hospital from here, and how long to the Medical Centre on base at Andrews?"

"About thirty minutes to Bethesda and fifteen to twenty minutes to Malcolm Grove on base."

Harm nodded, chewing his bottom lip, hesitating so long that Beth interjected, "Harm! Stop looking like that! It takes just as long to get from your place to Bethesda as it does from here!"

"Yeah, but it takes just as long to get to here from my place!" he objected.

Badbury looked confused, "So… you're both not going to be living here?"

"No… like I said, the Commander is just a friend," Beth said. "The only people living here will be me and the little person formerly known as The Bump," she smiled and gently patted her tummy.

"I see…" Badbury said, although by the puzzled look still on his face it was obvious that he didn't. He shook his head and continued, "So… are you at all interested?"

"Definitely!" Beth said, "But we do have two other places to look at, but I've got a good feeling about this place, Mister Badbury, even though you've moved out, it still feels like a home…"

Harm winced, he felt Beth was showing too much interest at this early stage, but Badbury smiled, "I tell you what; I'm more interested in getting this place, and the one upstairs filled, than I am in making a huge profit. So… as one flier to another…" he nodded towards the wings on Beth's jacket.

"You were a flier?" Harm interrupted.

"Yes, Commander, I was. I was a Lieutenant Colonel USAF in a former existence."

"What did you fly, sir?" Beth asked.

"F-Fours, One Elevens and hung on just about long enough for the Fifteen. Great days," Badbury smiled, "And you?"

"Oh… he's the driver, I'm the RIO… the gal in the back seat." Beth grinned deprecatingly.

Badbury looked from one to the other with new understanding, "You flew together?"

"We did," Harm affirmed, "And I was lucky, I had the best damn RIO in the fleet!" he smiled at Beth.

Badbury had identified the ribbons of Harm's fruit salad, and despite himself, he was former Air Force, after all, he was secretly impressed, 'And I reckon she was a lucky gal to have you as her pilot!'

He shook his head slightly, "Okay… as I said, I'm not particularly interested in making a huge profit, so here's the deal… I'll let you have this place on a probationary twelve month lease, for your BAH, but you are responsible for its upkeep, the utilities and local taxes."

"Except for major structural faults!" Harm quickly interjected.

Badbury looked at him expressionlessly for a long moment before his face creased in a grin, "You done this before, Commander?"

Harm shook his head, "Nope, but my step-father has a pretty impressive property portfolio out in SoCal, and I guess I've learned a thing or two from him."

"Okay… so what do_ you_ say, Lieutenant?"

"I'm tempted, sir. Very tempted. But like I say, I do have two other places to see this evening. But… if you can get a lease agreement, with the terms you've just mentioned, to me by tomorrow evening, I can give you a definite answer by midday on Friday."

"Why… that's fair enough I reckon. If you can do that, I don't see any reason, once your bank honours your check, why you shouldn't move in ASAP!"

A brief round of handshakes later, Beth and Harm were back in their cars and on their way to the second address in Camp Springs.

**Tuesday, November 20****th****, 2001  
2052hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(210152ZNov01)**

"What do you fancy?" Harm asked as he shrugged off his jacket, while Beth flopped onto the couch.

"Pizza?" Beth asked hopefully as she toed her shoes off, "Ooh that's better!" she added as she wiggled her toes and sank back against the pillows.

Harm grinned in resignation, when it came to Pizza, Beth and Mac had a lot in common, "Shall I order it now, or do you want to shower first?"

"Oh… order it now. I'll shower after we've eaten. That way I can get straight into my PJs and hit the sack. I'm due back on watch at zero eight!"

"Okay… what do you want on your half?" Harm asked. His necktie now off and his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows as he picked up the phone.

"Could we go for a _frutti del mare_?" Beth asked, "I loved those ones we used to get in Naples…"

"God, yes! " Harm enthused as a memory fuelled smile spread across his face, "That little trattoria down that side street off of the piazza… the piazza…"

"Piazza Cavour!" Beth finished for him with a chuckle. "And it was La Trattoria de Loretta del Mar! Honestly, you're hopeless with foreign languages!"

"Yeah, that was the one!" Harm agreed and then broke off as his call was answered, and he ordered the pizza.

"It's going to be about twenty minutes, so I'll grab my shower now." he told her.

"Go, ahead, make yourself at home!" Beth grinned.

Beth shoved the empty pizza box to one side, and took a last mouthful of sparkling cider, "So… what did you think of those apartments we saw?" she asked.

Harm shook his head decisively, "Two of the three apartments were fine, but the neighbourhood for the two in Camp Springs… nuh-huh. The buildings weren't that old, but the whole place looked dirty, neglected and run down, and I doubt there was a car on either parking lot that was under six years old… and did you notice along the fence line between that second place and the street? All that trash. And that third apartment! Beth it was pokey, dark and it smelled damp, why do you think I hustled us out of there! And it was on the seventh floor! How do you think you would you cope at the end of your third trimester with a bag of shopping and fourteen flights of stairs if the elevator went off-line? And you can bet your bottom dollar it would! If not then, but when you've got an infant, a stroller, and shopping to try and carry up there! Hell, Beth, you'd be better off staying here!"

"Why, Commander Rabb, is that an invitation?" Beth teased him.

Harm grinned and shook his head, "No… much as I'd like it if you stayed here, we both know that it's just not practical…" he shook his head in resigned disappointment.

"So, the first one it is, the one in Upper Marlboro."

"You liked that place, didn't you?"

Beth nodded, "And so did Harriet Sims… she's the one who found it!"

"Oh, well… never let it be said that I disputed Harriet's taste!" Harm laughed, but then sobered, "And the neighbourhood seemed much better, but just don't sign anything until I've had a chance to run it by CC, okay?"

"Isn't that a bit extreme?" Beth frowned.

"No, I don't think so, we are both too closely concerned to be able to maintain detachment on this, and don't forget, this sort of thing is bread and butter to the LSO, if there's anything dodgy about the terms of the lease, CC will be the one to spot it!

"Yes, dad," Beth said meekly, but with her eyes dancing with mischief.

Harm tried to glare at her, but was forced to chuckle instead. "Go on, go get your shower, I'll press a fresh shirt for you!"

He pressed her shirt, leaving it hanging on the bathroom door, and then returned to the kitchen to make a pan of hot chocolate, timing it so that as he walked back into the lounge area, Beth in her uniform skirt and stockinged feet, emerged from the bathroom, a towel wrapped about her head, and her blow-dryer and hair-brush in hand, and smiled her thanks as he presented her with a steaming mug, and laying aside the dryer she cradled her mug in both hands.

The two finished their drinks in silence, and Harm collected the mugs and took them to the kitchen rinsed them and left them to dry overnight.

Then passing Beth on his way to his bedroom, he stopped, stooped, and dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead.

It took a second for them both to realise what he had done, and then both blushed. Harm was the first to find his voice, "Uh… Umm… I…it… you… I… ah… Goodnight Beth!" and he fled to the sanctuary of his bedroom, leaving Beth, her dryer buzzing unheeded in her hand, to stare, open-mouthed, after him.

**Wednesday, November 21****th****, 2001  
1910hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(220010ZNov01)**

Dinner was uncomfortably quiet, not that that was particularly strange, through long acquaintance aboard ship Beth knew that Harm really didn't know how to deal with embarrassing or emotional feelings but would sit and brood for hours, even days, while he tried to figure out how he felt. There'd been no opportunity this morning for them to talk, by the time Beth had gotten back from Andrews it was nearly zero eight forty hours, and Ham had left for work at least an hour previously, and as Beth walked into the bathroom she noticed a damp t-shirt and shorts lying on top of the laundry hamper, a sure indication that Harm had gone for a run to try, so she supposed, to work out why he kissed her and what the possible ramifications and consequences might be.

For her part, Beth wasn't offended or upset; it was just that she had been surprised. She enjoyed her close friendship with him, but it had always been strictly platonic… mind you, so had the kiss on the forehead… but it was an escalation of sorts. All prior demonstrations of affection had been limited to friendly teasing, and an occasional – very occasional – shoulder hug. 'So… maybe last night's events do need talking about…' she thought. She waited until he'd drained his first mug of coffee and had poured the second before she spoke, "Harm? What was all that about last night?"

"Uh…" Harm stared at her with a rabbit-caught-in-the-headlights expression on his face, and to Beth's amused surprise his ears flamed crimson, and there was even a hint of red in his cheeks.

"Umm… Yeah… Beth… I'm… uh… sorry about that… I don't know what came over me, and I promise, it won't happen again…"

"I'm not worried about that!" she waved a hand dismissively, "I wasn't offended, and I didn't feel threatened… it was rather cute in a way, it was just that I was surprised…"

"Ah… like I said… I'm not sure what I was doing… it just seemed – on the spur of the moment – the right thing to do… I hadn't planned on doing it, but…" he swallowed and straightened his shoulders, "It just suddenly seemed the right thing to do! I know I haven't done anything like that before, but you've never spent a month camping out in my lounge before either, and after all that time… it… it feels almost like we're family… and then the idea of you moving out soon… and well…"

"Yeah," Beth agreed, "we are living in somewhat more intimate circumstances than ever before, so perhaps it shouldn't have been entirely unexpected."

"Uh… Beth…?"

"Yeah?"

"If you weren't offended, and you weren't threatened, then, I don't really regret it, you know?"

Beth gathered up her cup and plate and standing delivered them to the sink and then sighed as she looked through the window at the lowering grey skies, "I gotta go and, with the traffic at this time of day, I need an extra ten minutes, and I just know that as soon as I step out of the car, it's gonna rain!" she bustled about, slipping on her uniform jacket, struggling with buttons. "Yep, gonna have to be the maternity uniform – starting tomorrow!" she grinned, and then collecting her cover and umbrella, she crossed back to the island and dropped a kiss of her own on Harm's forehead. "See you later, sailor!" she quipped and then laughed at the thunderstruck expression on Harm's face.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

**Thursday, November 22****nd****, 2001  
0917hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(2201417ZNov01)**

Beth woke slowly, hovering for long minutes in that delicious torpor between being fast asleep and wide awake, only to come fully awake at the soft 'click' of the apartment door closing. Opening bleary eyes she saw Harm, dressed in a long-sleeved sweat shirt and jeans carrying an armful of white shirts towards the kitchen area. Propping herself on one elbow, she blew an errant strand of hair off her face and smiled a sleepy, "Good morning," at him.

Harm stopped, put his burden down on the island and turned, "Oh… I'm sorry Beth, I didn't mean to disturb you… but," and he ginned, "Good morning to you, and… Happy Thanksgiving!"

Beth's grin flashed, "And a Happy Thanksgiving to you too!" She paused for a few seconds and then said musingly, "You know, working this watch system, I'd forgotten it was Thanksgiving today – and I'm on watch at sixteen hundred, dammit!"

"H'mm… so we haven't got much time to lose! So, up and at 'em! Go get dressed, I'll make a start on breakfast! H'mm… cute jim-jams!" he teased her as Beth threw the covers off and get to her feet.

Beth looked down at her sky-blue flannel pyjamas, printed with a scattering of fluffy white clouds and little yellow bi-planes, and blushed slightly, "Well, I saw them in the BX at Andrews… and I just couldn't resist them," she confessed with a shy smile.

"Ah… madame est très chic!" Harm said in a supercilious manner, and let a full-blown flyboy grin spread across his face, "And you thought I was hopeless at languages!" he said smugly.

Beth gave him the benefit of a narrow-eyed glare, "I did, and I do… 'cos I'll bet that's just about all the French you know!"

Her observation was too close to the truth for Harm to deny it, so he just laid a finger alongside his nose and grinned knowingly.

"Huh! Men!" Beth snorted, and stalked off in the direction of the bathroom.

By the time she returned, her pyjamas exchanged for jeans and sweatshirt, Harm had produced a short stack of pancakes, a carafe of coffee for him, a pot of tea for her and a jug of orange juice. Beth raised her eyebrows at the scanty breakfast and asked lightly, "The cupboard bare, is it?"

Harm shook his head, "Nope, but with an early Thanksgiving Dinner on the cards, a light breakfast is all that we need!"

"Early Thanksgiving dinner?" Beth said, a suspicion growing in her mind,

"Yup. You're on watch at sixteen hundred, so I figure we need to be all done by fifteen hundred. It's not quite a full scale thing, there's only the two of us…"

"And you don't eat meat," Beth nodded in agreement as he cut into her stack of pancakes, "M'mm… cinnamon... I like!"

"But I did get us a turkey crown…" Harm grinned shyly, "A full bird would be wasted, we'd never get through it before it became a hazmat!"

Beth put her fork down, and wiped a smear of maple syrup from the corner of her mouth, "You eat turkey?" she asked in surprise.

"At Thanksgiving and at Christmas – if I have guests," Harm agreed cordially.

"You're just full of surprises!" Beth exclaimed.

"Well, I can't let you think that you've got me completely decoded!" Harm grinned.

"Yeah, you wish!" Beth scoffed and returned her attention to her pancakes.

As soon as breakfast was eaten and cleared away Harm started preparing the Thanksgiving dinner, assisted by Beth, who insisted on helping out and the two spent most of the morning working companionably together, any residual awkwardness from the kiss dissipating in good-natured chaffing, until Harm looked at his watch, "Well, the turkey and the pie are in the oven, the veggies are all prepped and just need steaming and the potatoes, of course. Why don't you make a start on getting ready, and I'll make a fresh pot of tea?"

"Are you sure?" Beth asked doubtfully.

"I'm sure, now g'wan, git!"

"To hear is to obey, master!" Beth grinned and turned towards the bathroom.

"And don't you forget it!" Harm called after her.

Beth's reply came in the form of a giggle, and a sarcasm loaded, "Riiight!"

"How do I look?" Beth asked doubtfully after dinner when she emerged from the bathroom in the Navy's version of maternity wear.

"Do you really want to know?" Harm grinned, "Or are you fishing for compliments?"

"A bit of both I suppose…" Beth said after a moment's thought, "so could we compromise on reassurance?"

"I guess we can do that. Okay, it's not the most flattering thing I've ever seen you wear, but you're looking good, even with that… that…"

"Smock? Gunny Sack? Big Top?" Beth asked in a dangerously sweet voice.

"Yeah, I'd go with smock," Harm agreed, for once not oblivious to the danger signals that Beth had hoisted to her personal yard arm.

Instantly mollified, Beth sighed, "Okay… I might look all right, but I feel as guilty as hell…"

"What on earth are you feeling guilty about?" a very much surprised Harm asked.

"Leaving you alone with all the clearing up on Thanksgiving."

"Well don't, because the second you're out the door, I'm off to Commander Turner's place to catch the Cowboys game! So, feel sorry for me for that if you want, while you go off and enjoy your nice action-filled dog-watch!"

Beth grinned, "Action filled – on Thanksgiving, yeah, like that's going to happen. Hell, today, even the birds will be walking!"

"Go on, I'll see you about twenty-one hundred!"

**Thursday, November 22****nd****, 2001  
2017hrs EST  
Sturgis Turner's Apartment  
1121 24****th**** Street NW, Washington DC  
(230117ZNov01)**

"No thanks, buddy," Harm shook his head and declined Sturgis' offer of another soda or cup of coffee, "I'd better be getting back, otherwise Skates will be coming home to an empty apartment, and that's not right, not on Thanksgiving…"

Sturgis nodded, a slight frown creasing his brow. Harm had been too late to catch the beginning of the first of the two traditional Thanksgiving Day games, but had been in time to watch the last three quarters of a close-run game as the Packers just edged the Detroit Lions by a bare two points, and both men had watched in almost disbelief as the Denver Broncos beat the Cowboys in an equally even-matched game, again running out the winners by just two points.

Sturgis and Harm had both shouted themselves nearly hoarse as the tension built during the game and as neither were fans of the participating teams – Harm stood by the team of his youth, the San Diego Chargers, and Sturgis for some obscure reason was a New England Patriots supporter – both were able to enjoy both games without the disappointment of seeing their own team lose, and conversely both were able to hurl imprecations at the screen at each failed play without worrying about upsetting the other's sensibilities.

"Uh-huh," Sturgis replied in answer to Harm's observation and then emboldened by the relaxed atmosphere, he ventured, not without some trepidation, onto a subject that had been concerning him for a little while, "Um… Buddy?"

"Yeah?"

"Um… Harm… just how close are you and Beth getting?"

Harm stiffened, "For a start, that's none of your damned business!"

"I know… but you are my friend, and I don't want to see you land in any sort of mess out of any misguided thoughts you might have about the way you're feeling…"

Harm looked at him coldly for a few seemingly long moments and then relaxed slightly, "What you're suggesting is ridiculous," he said eventually. "Beth is my friend; in fact she's more than a friend. She's my RIO, we're a team; she's someone who had my life in her hands every time we flew, and that makes for a tighter bond than with just an ordinary friend. She's someone in whom I have every trust. Yes, I'm very fond of her, and that's as far as it goes. Secondly, I feel a bit insulted; she's a very recent widow, do you really think I'd make a move on her in those circumstances, even if I did feel more than friendship with her? Besides which, she's carrying her late husband's child. Just what sort of low-life do you think I am, dammit?"

"I don't think you're a low-life at all, Harm, it's just that you seem to be attracted to women who need a strong figure in their life. You do a great job of helping them, and then once they can stand on their own two feet… you seem to lose interest in them."

Harm glared suspiciously at his old academy friend, "Have you been talking to Mac about this?"

"Um… no… not exactly…"

"What does that mean?"

"Well, it was Mac that mentioned it to me… and then thinking back, it seemed she'd hit the nail pretty well on the head," Sturgis confessed.

Harm continued to look at his old friend in disbelief for a few seconds and then shook his head and laughed, "No such thing, pal. Mac has got this bee in her bonnet about me only being interested in what she calls 'needy' women. Okay, Annie had issues, and maybe so did Renee, but Diane was never needy, neither was Maria Elena and nor was Jordan, and I dare you to call Beth needy to her face." He grinned more even broadly, "She'd wipe the floor with you!"

Sturgis wasn't completely reassured, but as Harm stood and turned to get his coat from the hat-tree by the door he said, "Okay… if you're sure you know what you're doing, then I'll say no more."

Harm paused as he shrugged into his coat, "I'm sure, Sturg, I'm sure."

"Okay then, buddy. I'll see you tomorrow, drive safe!"

"Always, pal, always!" Harm grinned, and opening the door stepped out into the hallway.

Sturgis waited until the door closed before he shook his own head and murmured, "Methinks the gentleman doth protest too much! Oh, Harm, Harm, just to whom were you lying, me or you?"

**Thursday, November 22****nd****, 2001  
2041hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE, Washington DC  
(230141ZNov01)**

Harm grinned in triumph as the door to the apartment opened just as he'd decided that the hot chocolate was just about ready, and glancing over his shoulder he smiled at Skates as she turned from closing the door behind her.

She returned his smile with a rueful grin as she headed towards the couch, loosening her neck-tab as she went, and once seated in her nest of cushions, toeing off her shoes with a relived sigh. "M'mm… hot chocolate?" she queried as she breathed in the aroma.

"Coming right up," Harm grinned, "congratulations on your timing! You came in just as I decided it was ready!"

"Speaking of which – oh thanks," she interrupted herself as she reached up to take her mug from Harm, "I thought you said you were heading for Commander Turner's to watch football."

"I did. I missed the kick-off for the first game, but we saw the whole of the second game, before I decided it was more important that you had someone to come home to tonight."

"Why tonight in particular?" Beth frowned, and then smiled as she took her first sip of her drink.

"Because it's Thanksgiving, it's still comparatively early, and I didn't want you sitting around here all evening on your own with no entertainment!" Harm explained, somewhat more forcibly than intended.

"That's sweet of you, Harm, really sweet… but actually, I'm feeling pretty darned good…" she smiled enigmatically.

"Okaaay…" Harm drawled, "Give…"

"At about seventeen forty we had a C-17 in transit for Miramar, but just before it went feet dry, the pilot declared an emergency after a bird strike put paid to both its port engines. We had to clear the airspace for a direct approach, diverting some smaller aircraft down to Oceana, and larger traffic to Dover, but we got the field cleared, and all the emergency personnel standing by, but the pilot did a great job, brought her in flawlessly and rolled to stop short of the end of the runway, but the best news was that there was a full company of Marines on board, rotating back home from the sandbox, and they all walked off the ramp without a scratch between them!"

Harm grinned in sheer happiness, "Bravo Zulu to that pilot, Beth!"

"Amen to that!" she agreed happily, "Even if he is a Zoomie!"

Both chuckled, but Beth's chuckle was abruptly cut short, and her eyes grew round, "Oooh!" she groaned, and carefully put her still half-full mug on the table in front of the couch.

Harm was on his feet in flash, "Beth are you okay… the baby…?"

Beth sat back against her cushions and ginned, "No… nothing's wrong… I'm fine, the baby's fine… It's just that, yeah, I've felt a little flutter now and then, but… Oh… here she goes again! Quick, come here!"

Harm crossed swiftly to the couch, "What?"

"Here give me your hand!" Beth grabbed Harm's hand and placed it on her bump, just in time for Harm to feel an impact as Beth's baby moved inside her, "Oh… wow!" he breathed.

"Yeah, oh, wow!" Beth agreed her face alight with joy.

Harm's mile showed just how much he enjoyed Beth's happiness, but then a thoughtful expression appeared on his face as something Beth had just said caught his attention. "She?" he queried, "You know?"

Beth shook her head, "Not for certain, but I just have a feeling…"

"But do you have a preference…?"

"Just as long as she – or he – is healthy and whichever, I know I'll love her or him the one as much as the other. But I suppose, if pushed, I'd like a boy, to name him… after… after… after Jason…" her eyes flooded as she faltered to a stop.

"Hey, hey," Harm said softly and looped an arm around her shoulder to give her a gentle hug, "It's okay… okay…"

Beth sniffled and sat up, fumbling for a Kleenex from the box on the bottom shelf of the occasional table. "Sorry, I don't know what came over me…"she said with an embarrassed grin.

"Hey, you're entitled," Harm disagreed with her as she relaxed back against the squab, his am was no longer around her shoulder, but draped along the back of the couch, leaving it up Beth whether or not she wanted any further contact. She didn't, as was evinced by her sitting upright, and a careful two to three inches away from him and Harm couldn't tell if he was relieved or disappointed.

**Friday, November 23****rd****, 2001  
1153hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(231653ZNov01)**

Harm was thinking about taking an early – and quick – lunch. Unfortunately for his stomach's sake he had a witness coming in to have a deposition taken at thirteen hundred, which meant that unless he left his office within the next ten minutes lunch was likely to be something ion the order of a hastily snagged sandwich washed down by a bottle of water, and today, probably due to the combined effects of a drastic drop in temperature and the office's antiquated heating system, he really felt in need of some central heating of his own, something like a dish of piping hot ratatouille or even the cafeteria's infamous vegetarian lasagne.

Hastily scrawling his signature across the foot of the report he had just compiled, he carefully locked it in the top drawer of his desk and started to rise to his feet. And the phone rang.

For a second he considered not answering the call, but then with a muffled curse, he sank back in his chair and picked up the hand set, "Rabb."

"_Commander Rabb_?" A female voice asked.

"Yes, this is he," Harm answered even as an awareness dawned on him that he ought to know the voice.

"_Good morning Commander, this is Deniz Hawkes – Elizabeth's mother. I hope I haven't called at an inconvenient time_?"

"No, of course not, Mrs Hawkes, how may I help you?"

"_Firstly, Commander, I want to say thank you, on behalf of the whole family, for looking after Elizabeth at this time. I know in an ideal world that she should be with family, but we are all so far part, and all my other children have families of their own…_"

"Please, Mrs Hawkes, you owe me no explanations, and you certainly owe me no thanks. Elizabeth is my friend, and I am only too happy to help her."

"_But I – we, that is the family, do owe you, and I'm afraid that I am going to ask for more help from you for Elizabeth_."

"Yes, of course, what do you need?"

"_Elizabeth is a very stubborn girl_," Mrs Hawkes continued, "_And despite you giving her a roof over your head, she has told us that she is determined to find an apartment of her own nearer to where she now works, and nearer also to medical help if she needs it. And that is why I'm calling you now, at work. You see, I can't get it straight in my head when Elizabeth is on duty and when she's not – it seems a very strange way to employ a pregnant woman - and if she knew I was making this call she'd be very angry with me. I don't see why she has to move out, she tells me she's very comfortable living with you, and I understand it only takes half an hour or so for her to get to work, and if she should need help, then you are there, the man on the spot… I've said all this to her, but all she says is mom, I need my own space, it isn't fair to Commander Rabb, and it certainly wouldn't be fair to bring the baby to his place, so I need a place of my own and… Oh, I'm sorry, I let my feelings run away with me, I am sorry, Commander…"_

"Please don't apologise, Mrs Hawkes, I'm sure that this is a very worrying time for you and your anxiety is completely understandable, but unfortunately, much as I would like for Elizabeth to stay at my apartment, it is only a single bedroom apartment, and for the moment she's sleeping on my couch, which has been okay up to now, but as she gets bigger, then it won't be. So, yes, I wish she could stay, but the sad fact is that she does need her own space, and not only that, I don't live in the best part of town, and as her pregnancy progresses and certainly once the baby arrives I think Beth would find it very difficult to cope having to live where I live."

Mrs Hawkes sighed, "_I was hoping that you might be able to persuade her to stay with you, but is it as you say, then obviously that's not an option." She hesitated for a few second and just as Harm was about to respond, he could hear Beth's mom take a deep breath, "So Commander, can I ask you for a few favours?_"

"If I can, Mrs Hawkes then I will!" he said.

"_Thank you, Commander. Once Elizabeth has moved out, can you keep in touch with her, call her on the phone, to make sure she's all right, and if it's not too far from your home, could you… do you think it might be possible for you to call by once or twice a week, just to see how she is. Make sure she's eating properly and looking after herself_?"

"Of course I will, Mrs Hawkes, it's pretty much what I had intended doing anyway." Harm said cheerfully.

"_Thank you so much, Commander, that is a huge relief, and I don't know how we'll ever be able to repay you!_"

"Don't even think of it!" Harm responded with a smile, "Like I said, I count Beth as a very dear friend, so let's hear no more of thanks and or repayment!"

Mrs Hawkes responded with a sound half-way between a laugh and sob, "_You are a good man, Commander. Take care of yourself as well as my Elizabeth, Okay_?"

"Okay, Mrs Hawkes, I will, I promise."

"_Then thanks again, Commander. Goodbye_."

"Goodbye, Mrs Hawkes." Harm put the phone back on its rest and with a half-smile shook his head, did Mrs Hawkes really think that he needed telling to keep an eye on Beth after she moved out? He would never just let her walk away. His thoughts were cut thought by an audible growl coming from his middle section. He looked down at his stomach in mild surprise and then up at the clock in dismay, "Oh shit!" Sandwich and a bottle of water it was going to have to be!

**Saturday, December 1****st****, 2001  
1847hrs EST  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(012347ZDec01)**

Harm opened the trunk of the Lexus and hauled out the three cases of beer, passing them one at a time into the eager hands of one of the half a dozen Marines that Gunny Walters had rounded up to help Harm move Beth into her new apartment.

"Thanks guys, we couldn't have managed it without you!" he said with a grin, "I know it's not much, but…"

"Hey, it's okay, sir! We were glad to help, it made a change from the normal off-duty Saturday," Corporal Adams, known to his buddies as 'Grizzly,' grinned cheerfully.

"And I guess the beer helps to make it all painless, huh, Corporal?" Harm said just as cheerfully.

"That it does, sir, that it does!" PFC Donahue agreed to a chorus of "You bet" and "Damn straight!" from the rest of the group.

"Okay then, guys, get off now and enjoy your beers, and once again, thanks!"

"Thank you, sir! Good night!"

Harm watched them pile into the two cars that had brought them out to Upper Marlboro, and then blowing on his rapidly chilling hands for warmth, he turned and walked back up the path to the apartment.

Beth heard him come and shut the door, "I'm in the kitchen, Harm" she called out cheerfully.

"What are you up to?" he asked, his voice holding just an edge of suspicion as he walked into the kitchen.

Beth puffed a wisp of hair out of her eyes, "I'm being good!" she defended herself, "I'm only taking my flatware out of this box – which I had one of your Marines lift off the floor – and putting it away in the knife drawer. But now that's done, I'll put on the kettle, and I'll brew some tea."

"Fair enough," Harm agreed, "and while you're doing that, I'll make your bed down."

Beth stopped what she was doing and with her hands fill of flatware gave him an exasperated look, "I'm quite capable of making a bed!" she objected.

Harm grinned somewhat sheepishly, "Yeah, I know… but I've kinda gotten into the habit, and besides it's one less job for you to do, because, I have a feeling that despite anything I might say, and no matter how much we get done this evening, you'll carry on after I leave."

Beth put the flatware into the drawer and walked around the island to put her arms around Harm and give him a hug, "I know you're only trying to help, and I'm sorry if I'm beginning to sound like a shrew, but I can still do a lot of things about the house on my own." She looked up and grinned at him, "Trust me when I can't, you'll be the first to know!"

Harm released his return hug and looked down at Beth, "Now, why don't I believe that?" he asked with a smile, "Oh, wait," he hurried on before she could interrupt, "Maybe it's because I know you too well!"

"Darn, busted!" Beth sighed, but then became serious, "But really Harm, you have to trust me on this one thing: I am not going to do anything to put this baby at risk!"

Harm nodded, "I know you say that, and I know you mean that, but I just worry that you might do something that you don't realise is a risk… for instance, would you have given up jogging so early if your OB hadn't told you not to?"

Beth grimaced, "Point taken, counsellor. Okay, I'll be extra careful."

Harm smiled and let her go, "Good girl!" he said approvingly and waited for the explosion.

"Don't you dare patronise me like that Harmon Rabb! I… I… I'll… Ooh! You did that on purpose!" Beth declared, advancing with the light of battle in her eyes, "You, Harmon Rabb are the lowest, sneakiest connivingnest, shyster lawyer that ever…"

"Connivingnest?" Harm asked, prudently backing out of reach of tickling fingers, "Is that even a word?"

"Of course it is! I just said it!" Beth exclaimed.

"Oh… Okay, in that case I surrender!" Harm yelped as Beth backed him into a corner.

"Good, 'cause 'round here, I'm the boss, and don't you forget it!" Beth growled.

"Yes'm, boss-lady. Now… while I'm making down your bed, how about you getting on the 'phone and ordering us some dinner… or did Badbury not leave you a list of useful telephone numbers?"

"The former Colonel Badbury did just that!" Beth confirmed with a grin, laying just slight emphasis on her landlord's title, then stepping back and checking the list on the fridge door, "what do you fancy?"

Harm looked at her measuringly, "H'mm… if he's left the number of a pizza place that delivers, why don't you find out if they do a _Frutti del Mare_?" he suggested.

"You'd be okay with that? Really?" Beth asked, half-suspicious that Harm was indulging in a wind-up.

However, Harm's eyebrows rose in surprise, "Yeah, sure, why wouldn't I be? I know you like seafood pizza, and so do I."

Beth smiled happily, "Okay… _Frutti del Mare_ if they have it… if not?"

"Go for a half and half," Harm suggested, "Anything you want on your half, but double cheese, bell peppers and anchovies on mine!"

"Got it!"

The pizza hadn't arrived by the time Harm had finish making down the bed and to pass the time until it did he more or less amused himself by connecting to the DVD player and speaker Beth's large screen TV which he and one of the Marines had fixed to the wall for her, while Beth at his insistence, took a time out and sipped her tea from the shelter of her couch.

"You realise that this thing is going to destroy your brain cells?" he teased her.

"Not for the moment," she sighed, "The Cable company hasn't connected me yet, and they say it will probably be another ten days before they can!"

Harm shook his head in mock disapproval, "Anyone would think they didn't want your custom," he grinned.

"Well, I shan't be watching much TV anyway," Beth said as she took another sip of tea, "The TV was Jason's, he had it rigged up with all sorts of stuff, including his computer, but I don't want to go that far. No," she said, shaking her head slightly, "I shall mostly use it for watching DVDs."

Harm watched her keenly from under his brows at the mention of her late husband's name, but to his relief, although Beth let a sad smile creep across her face, she didn't break down as she had in the past, but then another worry struck him, she wasn't just bottling it all up inside, was she?

"Beth?"

"H'mm?"

"You all right these days… talking about Jason?" he asked cautiously.

Beth gave him a small, sad, smile, "Oh, Harm… I miss him so much in every way, every day… I don't think I'll ever stop loving him, or ever stop missing him… but I can't and won't let myself turn into a professional widow. So when I think of Jason now, I try to remember only the good times we had, and I refuse to revert back to being a watering pot. But, Harm…" her eyes sparkled with sudden moisture, "It's so unfair… I was the one with a high risk career, Jason was supposed to be safe, just flying a desk for the next couple of years… and then… that… that madness…" Beth gulped, and when she spoke again there was the hint of a hard edge to her voice, "When we punched out, I bobbed around in the ocean, I was half drowned every time a wave hit me, and I prayed to God that he wouldn't let me die, all alone out there, and I prayed that you would be safe too, but after September…" she shook her head, "Sometimes these days, I even wonder if there is a God!"

"We can only know that through faith, Beth."

"That's a hell of a lot to ask folk to take on, Harm," Beth answered bitterly.

Harm shrugged helplessly, this conversation was headed in a direction in which he felt woefully inadequate. "It's all we have," he said, feeling helpless.

"It's not enough, Harm. Not for me, not anymore!"

Harm opened his mouth, desperately trying to find some words of comfort, he had never heard that bleakness in Beth's voice before, not even when the loss of her husband was a raw, bleeding wound, but while he was floundering he was literally saved by the bell, the front door bell.

"That'll be the pizza!" he declared, almost jumping to his feet, "I'll get it!" and almost ran from the room.

Beth sniffed, blew her nose, and wiped her eyes on a couple of sheets of Kleenex, and while Harm was paying the delivery driver, she went back to kitchen fridge and pulled out two bottles of tonic water. They were not quite as cold as she would have wished, and she had neither ice nor lemon nor lime to serve with them, but she shrugged her shoulders. They would have to do. Like so much in her life at the moment.

By some sort of unspoken agreement neither Harm nor Beth reverted to the previous topic of conversation as they split the seafood pizza between them, the only discordant note coming when Beth carefully picked 'those disgusting hairy little fish', as she called anchovies, off her half of the pizza, and grimaced in mock-horror as Harm eagerly added them to his own half.

"I suppose that's some sort of compensatory craving as a reaction to all that bland veggie stuff you eat," she commented in such a neutral tone of voice that Harm had to look carefully at her to make sure she was joking.

"H'mm… I don't seem to recall you complaining overly much about the veggie lasagnes I made," Harm said mildly.

"H'mm… I don't seem to recall me not complaining about your meatless meatloaf," Beth replied just as mildly, but with an amused glint in her eye.

"Oh, come on, it wasn't that bad!" Harm protested.

"Umm… as a general rule, anything you have to defend with 'it wasn't that bad' probably was!" Beth responded with a grin, "And besides, just sometimes I prefer my protein to have had legs, not roots!"

"Carnivore!" Harm accused her.

"Nope, omnivore," Beth chuckled, "I do eat other things!" she scooped up a dollop of melted cheese with her forefinger and waved it in front of Harm's nose before she popped her finger into her mouth and sucked it clean.

Harm stared at her in stunned astonishment. For some reason he found her action to be highly erotic and that surprised him even more, and what was worse made him feel acutely uncomfortable. This was Beth, for God's sake! He shouldn't be thinking about her like that at all – let alone that she'd just lost her husband… and then there was the baby, too! His recent words to Sturgis Turner also came back to haunt him. What sort of low-life was he becoming? What was he thinking!"

Beth noticed his sudden quietude, "Harm? Something wrong?"

"Uh… no… I was just… uh… thinking…"

"About what?" Beth asked, licking her lips as she finished her last morsel of pizza.

"Well… if you must know… I was trying to figure out some sort of tactful way of getting you to promise that you wouldn't try to get all the rest of your stuff unpacked tonight… and that you wouldn't try to lift anything too heavy, until I come back tomorrow and do the heavy lifting for you."

Beth smiled, "Harm, you've already done more than enough today. I can manage what's left."

"I'm sure you can, but the point is that you shouldn't have to, and if I don't come over tomorrow, I'm going to be at a dead loss, and I'm going to be bored, miserable and irritable, so to save me from myself, you owe me enough to let me come over here and help you," he finished triumphantly.

"Dammit! I've been out-argued by a damn shyster – again!" Beth mourned. "Okay, but not too early, do you hear?"

"I hear you ma'am, so… zero nine hundred? And I'll bring breakfast…"

"Jelly doughnuts?" Beth asked hopefully.

"If I must!" Harm sighed and then shook his head in pretended sorrow, "The things you eat…" and smiled slyly.

"Hey, I'm going to need the extra sugar for energy tomorrow," Beth grinned, "After all, if you're not letting me work tonight, then there's a lot to do tomorrow, and don't forget, I start back on my next rotation at sixteen hundred."

"Okay… I'll have something ready for you when you get home," Harm agreed.

"Harm, you don't have to do that!" Beth objected.

"You're right, I don't; but it's something that I want to do, okay?"

**Sunday, 2****nd**** December 2001  
2021hrs EST  
Beth Hawkes-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(030121ZDec01)**

Beth saw Harm's Lexus still parked outside her new apartment and groaned silently to herself. It wasn't that she was ungrateful to him for his help, far from it, but she had been champing at the bit to get her own space for the past couple of weeks. Harm had been good, very good, she corrected herself, to her, but he did have a tendency to hover and, yes, dammit, smother. All she really wanted to do this evening was to have a quick dinner – something out of the micro wave would do – and then take a long, hot, soak in the bath and then an early bedtime. She really didn't feel like playing hostess tonight. But some things couldn't be helped, she supposed, and with a resigned sigh, she hauled herself out of the car and up the footpath to the front door.

Inside, however, a surprise awaited her, the table had only the one place setting, and Harm was busy serving up something that smelled absolutely delicious. He turned from the stove with a smile, "Hi Beth, right on schedule! Hang up your smock and cover, and sit down. Chicken casserole, my mom's recipe, a one-pot deal, so come and get it while it's hot."

"Uh… yeah… thanks…" Beth managed to get out as she sat at the table and waited for Harm to put here plate in front of her, "but aren't you eating?"

"Sorry, no can do. I gotta run. I'll just wash up this pot – everything else is done – and then I'm outta here!" he grinned.

Beth looked at him in open-mouthed astonishment, she had been certain that he would hang around until late, and now that he'd said he had to go, and go quickly she was conscious of a pang of disappointment along with a sense of relief that she would be able to carry out her somewhat nebulous plans for the evening.

Harm looked over his shoulder at her as he scrubbed at the pot, "Hey, eat up!" he laughingly scolded her, "Don't let it get cold!"

Beth smiled, shook her head slightly and dug her fork into her dinner. "Hey! This is really good!" she said in mild surprise as she swallowed her first mouthful.

"Yep, mom's chicken casserole – never fails!" Harm grinned as he dried his hands. "That's me done, Beth, all you have to do now is to wash up your dinner things. I think I've covered most of the other stuff in the place, so I'll give you a call tomorrow, okay?" and without waiting for an answer he slipped his lightweight jacket on and with a parting wave and a smile, slipped out of the door, and hurrying against the chill made his way to the Lexus.

Once behind the wheel, he breathed a sigh of relief, after the emotional storm of last evening he wasn't sure he could handle an extended period of time in Beth's company, not yet, anyhow. He need a little time and space to get himself back under control. This morning had been bad enough, but with Beth needing to get ready for duty they'd only been in close proximity for a couple of hours after they'd breakfasted and he'd managed to maintain a more or less impassive front, but the prospect of spending more time with her this evening had made him question himself and his motives again and he wasn't entirely happy with the answers with which he had come up. 'So,' he thought as he knocked the gears forcefully into drive, 'here I am, running away. What a freaking a coward!'

Indoors, Beth gratefully mopped up the last of the casserole with the chunk of crusty bread Harm had served up with it and then smiled once she had stood lifted her plate. There on her place mat was a short note.

"_Fresh fruit salad in the fridge. Vanilla ice cream in the freezer_!"

Smiling in almost disbelief, she decided to take her dessert into the living room and take it with a coffee. It was the work of only a few minutes to brew a small jug of coffee, and so with mug in one hand and a dish of ice-cream and fruit salad in the other. She wandered into the living room where she stopped in her tracks and almost dropped both mug and dish.

'Harm certainly hasn't let any grass gown under his feet today!' Beth thought in bemusement as she took in the fully loaded bookshelves that this morning had been a stack of individual pieces of timber of varying lengths, but that now stood against, and as closer inspection revealed, securely screwed, to the walls. The one long, windowless, wall, was entirely taken up by shelves from six feet high down almost to floor level, while the remaining shelves had been secured to the wall opposite, next to the large-screen TV, and now held her collection of CDs and DVDs, as well as the music centre which appeared to have been wired to the same pair of speakers as the TV.

Abandoning, for the moment, the fruit salad, Beth strolled along the length of the larger set of shelves and nearly choked as a sip of coffee in its way down met a gurgle of laughter on its way up. The top row of books were all non-fiction, arranged alphabetically by topic, and alphabetically by author within those topics. The next row of shelves held her classics, from Herodotus, through Thucydides and Xenophon to Herman Melville, Mark Twain, Thomas Hardy and Joseph Conrad, passing Thomas Sterne, Henry Fielding and Jane Austen on the way. Below that were two rows of fiction, everything from Tom Holt through Terry Pratchett, and again, all sorted out alphabetically by author.

Picking up one of Pratchett's books at random Beth made her way back to the couch with a smile on her face. While what Harm had done hadn't been particularly hard work, assembling the shelf units single handed must have been challenging and the thought (and drudgery) in sorting her books out like that was endearing in and of itself.

But… if Harm had unpacked all her books, DVDs and CDs, where were the packing boxes that had contained them? A wander through the kitchen to the utility room answered that question. Tied in two neat bundles of ten, with a couple of loose boxes left over, were the collapsed boxes, all ready for return to the storage company and then she chuckled again as a scrap of white caught her eye. Tucked under the string that secured one of the bundles was another note:

"_Don't even think about it_!"

"No, dear," she murmured with another smile, and then stopped in shock as her ears and brain caught up with her mouth. 'Dear'!? Where the hell had that come from!?

The her shoulders relaxed as she let out a sigh of relief, "It was just an automatic reaction to that note; no big deal!" she said resolutely, and stopping off in the kitchen, en route, she poured herself another mug of coffee before making her way back to the lounge and her bowl of fruit salad, and doubtless now-melted ice cream.

'Once I've had that, then it's definitely time to get out of this rig, into the bath, and then into bed!'

**Sunday, 2****nd**** December 2001  
2347hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE  
Washington DC  
(030447ZDec01)**

Harm lay flat on his back, his hands linked under his head, staring, unseeingly up at the ceiling, trying to analyse his feelings towards Beth 'Skates' Hawkes – no, make that Elizabeth Hawkes-Mitchell, and don't forget it. But she was no longer just 'Skates' the best damn RIO in the fleet, she was, and on some level, he had always known it, a damned attractive woman, but she was also a very recent widow. And this widow was not for comforting… at least, not yet, not for a long time. So… perhaps it would be better to cut the tie between them completely, but he couldn't do that, not when she might need help, especially a bit further down the line. No, all he could do was to stand back, let her have her space, and leave it up to her to call him if she needed to. No, dammit, he couldn't even do that! He had just promised her mother, and himself, that he would look after her, and make sure she was all right, and he didn't break promises.

His head still whirling and still undecided about his future actions and even about his current feelings his eyelids drooped and he dropped into an uneasy, restless sleep.

**Monday 3****rd**** December 2001  
0901hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(031401ZDec01)**

The assembled officers rose to their feet with the usual scraping of chair legs on the polished hardwood floor as the conference room door opened to Tiner's call of "Admiral on Deck!"

Admiral Chegwidden strode into the room and took post beside his usual chair at the head of the table, his piercing eyes making a swift, evaluating sweep of his officers. Noting that Mac had returned from leave and also noting the strained body language of at least two of those officers he made an instant decision. With a glance over his right shoulder, he snapped, "Tiner!"

The yeoman stepped forward and handed a slim blue folder to his chief who then barked out, "Stand Easy," and waited until everyone had relaxed before he rapped out "Attention to orders!"

The group of officers once again assumed a braced posture and Chegwidden ordered, "Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie, front and centre!"

Mac turned and took the two steps necessary to bring her face to face with her CO, who opened the blue folder held and began to read, "'On the night of Monday, October Twenty Ninth, Two Thousand and One, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Catherine MacKenzie was present on duty at the United States Consulate in the town of Aceh on the Indonesian island of Java. The local population launched an attack in overwhelming numbers on the Consulate, killing the NCO IC the security detachment, and gravely wounding his deputy. As the highest ranking member of the military there present, Lieutenant Colonel MacKenzie took command of the detachment and of the situation.

With an exemplary display of courage, cool headedness under fire and leadership she organised a successful evacuation of the Consulate without incurring further casualties to either the diplomatic, domestic or military personnel of the Consulate, and without further inflaming the situation by the infliction of needless collateral damage, leading all personnel via a hazardous route to a hasty arranged helicopter landing zone, where the party rendezvoused with two helicopters from the USS Guadalcanal..

Furthermore, in the face of personal danger, Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie ensured that all personnel were safely emplaned before she allowed herself to be pulled on board the last departing helicopter.

Lieutenant Colonel Mackenzie's quickness of thought and action, together with her courage under fire and the concern showed for those unable to defend themselves reflect great credit on herself, the Navy and Marine Corps Judge Advocate General's Corps, and the United States Marine Corps. For her actions on the night of Monday, October Twenty-ninth, Two Thousand and One, Lieutenant Colonel Sarah Catherine MacKenzie is awarded the Meritorious Service Medal.' Congratulations Colonel," and he stepped forward to pin the medal to her tunic and then stood back, once again casting a shrewd glance at his officers, he grinned, "As the Colonel isn't married, and I'm ineligible, Commander Turner, would you do the honours, please?"

"Certainly, sir," the tall African-American officer answered and stepping forward he planted a formally chaste kiss on Mac's cheek. Mac didn't blink, just murmured an equally formal "Thank you, Commander."

Chegwidden handed Mac her citation and then cleared his throaty. "All right people, take your seats, we have a lot to get through this morning."

At the end of the staff call Harm offered a perfunctory "Congratulation Colonel" to Mac, that went almost unnoticed in the general hubbub of congratulations, but she heard it nevertheless, and for a second their eyes met. Harm nodded in dismissal and made his way along the hallway, heading towards the bull pen and his office to collect the brief for the court-martial that was due to start in court room three at ten hundred.

Picking up his file, he turned to leave his office only to find the doorway blocked by his old academy friend, "What was that all about?" Sturgis asked.

"What was what all about?" Harm demanded.

"The Admiral, asking me to give Mac her ceremonial kiss."

"Sturgis, old buddy, where the hell have you been these last couple of months? I think you should have seen that Mac and I are no longer on such terms that I would have relished the detail, and I'm pretty sure that she would have refused it, coming from me! Now, if you'll excuse me, I only have a very few minutes before I'm due to whip Alan Mattoni's ass in court!"

Turner stood back from the door way and let Harm brush past him, but gazed after the disappearing figure of his friend, "From the look she sent after you as you left the room, pal, it sure as hell didn't look like that to me!" he murmured, attracting the attention of Harriet Sims.

"Did you say, something, sir?" the bubbly blonde asked.

"No… nothing of any consequence, Lieutenant, nothing at all, really."

Harriet gazed at him doubtfully, "If you say so, sir!"


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

**Monday 3****rd**** December, 2001  
1543hrs EST  
On board SH-60F Seahawk  
Over the Atlantic Ocean  
(032043ZDec01)**

"How do you want to handle this, once we get on board?" Carolyn yelled at Harm over the noise of the helo's engines and the rapid 'thwap-thwap-thwap' of its rotors.

Harm grimaced, brandished the very slim file he was trying to read and yelled back, "As I understand it, the pilot and both ECMOs ejected safely and were picked up unharmed by the plane guard helo, so we should be able to interview them immediately, analyse their answers, write our report, make recommendations to the skipper all in one day, and then be on our way home by Wednesday at the latest stop"

Carolyn grinned, "Keen to get back to your new girlfriend, Harm?"

The faint grin on Harm's face disappeared, "What new girlfriend? I haven't got a girlfriend!"

Carolyn looked at him, an openly disbelieving expression on her face, "No? Are you sure? Because the word is that there's a new woman in your life, and there was that last-minute telephone call!" She teased.

Harm's face was now set in an expression of extreme annoyance. "What word? And where did it come from?"

Carolyn was about to reply with some more light-hearted teasing banter, in the form of an evasive response, but seeing the expression on her partner's face, she underwent a rapid change of mind. "Um… Well, I got the word from Harriet Sims, and she apparently got it from…"

"Let me guess!" Harm interjected bitterly, "Mac!"

"Um… Yeah… So, no new girlfriend?"

"No." Harm said flatly.

By this time Carolyn's eyes were alive with curiosity, "So… What gave Mac the idea that you were somehow involved with someone new?"

"I have no idea! "What goes on in Mac's head is a total mystery to me, and apparently always has been!"

"But…"

"This conversation is over!" Harm said furiously, seething inside at the thought that Mac is now spreading inaccurate scuttlebutt about him and his personal life.

Carolyn held up her hands in a gesture of surrender, "Okay, okay, don't shoot the messenger… And now changing the subject completely, what do you reckon of the case?"

Harm looked at her blankly for a second while he mentally followed her jump "At this time? I have no opinion!"

**Monday 3****rd**** December, 2001  
1633hrs EST  
Beth Hawkes-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(032133ZDec01)**

Beth let the apartment door close behind her and wandered through to the living room where she shrugged out of her maternity smock, loosened the waistband of her skirt and then dropped onto the couch with a sigh of relief, kicking off her shoes and bringing her feet up, one at a time to rub at the constriction marks her shoes had left after a day spent mostly on her feet.

Realising that her attempts weren't really achieving much by way of eradicating the pressure marks, she swivelled around to lie lengthways on the couch with her head propped by one the cushions and her feet elevated on the opposite arm of the couch, and closed her eyes to relax… just for a minute or two… until Harm arrived.

It was full dark when her eyes suddenly snapped open and for a few seconds she mentally floundered as she figured where and when she was. With a groan, realisation dawned, she had fallen fast asleep and fumbling around her hand searched for the reading lamp on the end table next to the couch. Blinking in the sudden light she waited the few seconds for her eyes to adjust to the glare and once they had she peered at her watch groaning silently to see that she had been asleep for over three hours. It was just short of twenty hundred hours, and she was still her now sleep-crumpled maternity uniform, and her mouth felt like the bottom of a parrot's cage and… where was Harm?

Swinging her feet onto the floor and sitting up, she plucked irritably at the material of her blouse where it had rucked up under her arms, and stood, intending to head for her shower and a change into… again she looked at her watch… her pyjamas, she decided. But then again, where was Harm? Not that she particularly wanted his company right now, but he had said he would be here this evening to take away the collapsed movers' boxes, and infuriating as it might be, and although he sometimes had to cancel previously made arrangements, he always called to say that plans had to be changed. That was a thought worth holding onto Beth nodded to herself, he might well have called, and maybe she just hadn't heard the 'phone?

Crossing to the corner of the room where her desk stood she bit her lip in annoyance. From where she'd been sitting on the couch, she couldn't see the telephone, hidden from her vie by the bulky CRT monitor for her computer, so she hadn't been able to see the match-head sized flashing LED that told her that she had indeed received an incoming message.

With a muttered curse, she punched the button to listen to her missed call or calls. The first call she deleted as soon as she heard the words, "_Hi… I'm calling to let you know about a fantastic investment opportunity…_" and waited for the next call on the tape, "_Hi, Beth, Harm here. It's eleven seventeen hours, Monday December 3__rd.__ Sorry, got to cancel tonight. I'm being sent out to investigate a flight-deck mishap on the Iron Ike. But maybe you already know that from flight manifests? Anyway, I hope to be home before Friday, and I'll call you when I go feet dry and re-arrange pickup of those boxes. In the meantime, look after yourself and don't try to do too much. See you soon. 'Bye_."

Beth nodded in relieved satisfaction; at least Harm was okay and hadn't wrapped his car around a Street lamp pole somewhere. Relieved on two counts, first for his safety and second now secure that she could just kick back and relax for what was left of the evening.

Her fingers going to her blouse buttons she decided that a shower, her PJs, a sandwich – peanut butter and pickled clams – with a glass of milk, and then a DVD; she paused, considering her choice and then smiled, Katharine Hepburn's _Bringing Up Baby _would just about suit her mood at the moment.

**Tuesday 4th December, 2001  
1622hrs EST  
Captain's Day Cabin**  
_**USS Eisenhower**_  
**Atlantic Ocean 320 miles N of Bermuda  
(042122ZDec01)**

Captain Hepplewhite sat at his desk, flanked by the_ Eisenhower's_ CAG. He looked up as the door shut behind the two JAG officers, who halted at attention in front of his desk.

"Well, Commanders, what have you got for me?"

Harm, a senior investigator, replied, "Sir, we've reviewed the tape of the Prowler's landing, we've both separately interviewed the LSO, pilot and the two ECMO's, and we've compared the answers from each gave to each of us. There are minor discrepancies, but that's only to be expected. The pilot reports a delay in engine response, the LSO states he noted the same thing and then saw the Prowler drop off the bow and in our opinion quite properly ordered the aircrew to eject."

"And you're qualified to hold that opinion just how?" The CAG, Captain Pigot queried.

"I'm up-to-date with my deck landing quals, sir, and I have had to eject twice, the first time as a result of a ramp strike. So I have no doubt the LSO made the right call."

Pigot shared a glance with Hepplewhite, and after a few seconds of silent communication they both gave a brief nod their heads as they reached an unspoken agreement.

Hepplewhite turned back towards the two JAGs, "So, your recommendation Commander?"

"The LSO acted in accordance with his training and his experience, and also with your own Standing Orders and COMAIRLANT protocols. Lieutenant Richardson, the PIC, obeyed the LSO's order for the crew to eject. Our recommendation is that no disciplinary action should be taken against the LSO or the PIC."

Hepplewhite shifted his gaze to Carolyn Imes "And do you share that opinion, Commander?"

"I do, sir. Once the Prowler's tailhook failed, the PIC's actions were by the book, and given that the airplane's engines failed to respond in a timely manner, the LSO was quite right to order the crew to abandon the aircraft."

"You don't see anything odd, out of whack, after the crew abandoned the airplane in that it not only kept flying, but it also gained altitude, before suffering a one wing stall which finally caused it to impact the water?"

"Unlike Commander Rabb, I have neither flight experience nor any qualification in aerodynamics, but my admittedly limited understanding of the laws of physics has led me to believe that fixed wing flight is a matter of lift overcoming gravity. I believe it is probable that the sudden departure of three male aircrew, all of around the one hundred and eighty pound mark, plus forty pounds each of survival gear, plus the weight of three ejection seats altered the equation in favour of lift and with the controls set for take-off, once the engines had generated the extra power the PIC had demanded before ejection then that the Prowler not only maintained level flight also gained altitude should be no surprise."

Hepplewhite looked at his Air Wing Commander, who had relaxed sufficiently to allow a grin on his face, "CAG? Is the Commander right?"

"Well, I wouldn't have phrased it quite like that Skipper, but essentially, yeah she's got it about right."

Hepplewhite looked at Rabb and Imes in turn, "Thank you, Commanders. Of course the final decision will be up to the Air Accident Investigation Board, I certainly shall not be taking any action against LSO or pilot, and your report will, I believe make a solid contribution to their cases. Thank you." He glanced at his watch, "You're too late for the last COD this evening, but the CAG will make sure that there are seats for you on the first COD out in the morning. Dismissed."

Harm and Carolyn stiffened their brace for a second or two, before chorusing Aye, aye, sir!" Before performing a right face and heading for the door into the passageway.

Hepplewhite waited until the door had closed behind them before he turned back to the CAG and said, "Y'know Hank, I was half afraid that they were going send that rabid Marine light colonel with Rabb."

"Rabid, Skipper?" the CAG asked in some surprise at his Captain's choice of words.

"Hasn't the scuttlebutt reached you yet?" Hepplewhite grinned in some surprise, "The word is getting around that the Lieutenant Colonel comes down hard, exceptionally so, on any aviators she investigates."

"If that's so, then why is she still investigating, and I suppose prosecuting?" Hank Pigot then asked.

Hepplewhite shrugged, "Got me, maybe she's the Corps' JAG Division's Golden Girl?"

**Wednesday 5****th**** December 2001  
1657hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(052157ZDec01)**

It wasn't quite time to secure, but by the time he'd placed the call it probably would be, Harm decided, and so, pushing his chair back slightly from his desk he punched the numbers in on his phone and heard the instrument at the other end ring… and ring… and ring… until after eight rings her answering machine cut in, "_Hi, this is Beth, I can't get to the phone right now, but leave a message after the beep, and I'll get back to you. 'Bye._"

He listened for the beep, trying to compose a brief, but comprehensive message. For all his eloquence in the court room, he hated talking to a damned machine, maybe he needed the feedback he got from his listeners' faces and from their body language…"Oh… Beth, it's Harm, just to say I'm back… Uh… if I don't hear from you this evening I'll assume you're on watch… I don't have a copy of your watch roster with me at the office. So… if that's the case, I'll speak with you tomorrow… take care…"

A confirmatory second glance at his watch brought a rueful grin to his face, 'I'm an idiot!' he told himself in a self-condemnatory mental voice as he gathered up his briefcase and cover, 'At this time of day, there's a fifty per cent chance that she's either already on watch, or she's just come off watch and has stopped at the store on the way home… or she might even have an OB appointment… which reminds me… I must speak with her about going to Lamaze classes with her…'He closed and locked his office door behind him and sill preoccupied with thoughts of Beth he failed to notice the hostile glare from a pair of brown eyes that tracked his progress across the bullpen.

Harriet Sims, was in a rush to pack up her own desk and grab her husband so that they could pick up little AJ from the baby-sitter before they were charged for an extra hour, but she caught the look on Mac's face as the brunette watched Harmon Rabb exit the bull pen, calling a cheery '"Good night!" as he did so, and receiving a ragged return chorus in response.

The blonde admin officer bit her bottom lip and hesitated on the verge of speaking to her Marine Corps friend, this continued hostility towards Harmon Rabb was only going to back-fire on Sarah MacKenzie, of this Harriet was certain, but the pull of maternal duty was too much to resist and so, resolving to seize the next opportunity to try to reason with Mac, she hurried along the hallway to Bud's small and inconveniently out-of-the-way office.

**Friday December 14****th****, 2001  
1827hrs EST  
Beth Hawkes-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(142327ZDec01)**

Beth froze for a second, her hands gripped into tight fists at her sides. Counting slowly to ten she turned to face Harm.

"Harm… don't think I don't appreciate all that you've done for me and all that you're trying to do for me. But I don't need it! All I need today is a bit of me time! I know you mean well, and yes, you cook wonderful meals, but you've got a copy of my watch pattern; you know I have two watches today. That means I'm on watch from midnight to zero eight, which means I get home and get to bed at about zero nine hundred, I get up at about sixteen hundred and have a hot drink and a sandwich before I start thinking about getting ready for going on watch at twenty hundred and that means I'm not hungry enough to eat again before I go on watch.

"But the thing is Beth, you should be hungry enough… you know it's important to eat proper, healthy balanced meals…"

"For God's sake Harm! Don't! I have my mother calling me on an almost daily basis… I have Jason's mom calling me at least three times a week. You call me at least once, if not twice every day… you call round most days after work and you practically camp on my doorstep at weekends! And I appreciate you being there for me on my days off… to take me to the stores, to carry my groceries, to… to… well… everything that you do… But Harm, I have a mother and a mother in law, I don't need you to mother me too!"

"I'm just trying to keep the promise I made to look after you…" Harm started to protest.

"What! You made a promise to look after me! Who to?" Beth demanded, and then as suspicion dawned, "No… wait! My mother, right?"

"Well, yeah, but to myself too…"

"Oh great! So… instead of just keeping a promise… you've turned me in to one of your personal quests is that it?"

"No! No… I'm just trying to make sure you're okay…"

"I am okay… I was okay… until you started hovering twenty-four-seven! I don't need it! And I don't need you!" Beth yelled.

"Beth! You can't mean that… I mean you're on your own… you… you do need someone to… And it's not just that I promised it's… it's…." Harm's voice trailed off.

"And what exactly does that mean? Beth howled, "No… on second thoughts, I don't want to know!"

"Beth…" Harm started pleadingly.

"No! Don't! I don't want to hear it! Just go! Don't call! Don't visit! Don't bring me treats! Don't bug me! Don't fucking smother me! Don't… Just… in the name of God – go!" Beth screamed, tears of frustration starting to run down her face.

"But…" Harm said his hands spreading in a helpless gesture, "I just want…"

"I don't care what you want! What I want is to be left alone for five fucking minutes! Just go! And don't come back!"

"Beth…" Harm was appalled, "You… you… don't really mean that…"

"Yes!" Yes, I do mean it! Get out, Harm, get out! Out! Out! Out!"

**Wednesday December 19, 2001  
1110hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(171610ZDec01)**

Harm had spent a lot of time over the weekend, thinking about Friday evening, what Beth had yelled at him, and analysing his own actions over the last two or three months, and he hadn't liked the conclusion which he had drawn. Standing back and trying to examine Beth's point of view he could see that yes, he probably had crossed a line or two, and had been too pushy and crowded too much. So despite the urge to call her, even just to apologise, he resisted the temptation. It seemed that Beth had made the decision that he was no longer welcome in her life, and if she reconsidered that decision at any time, then it would have to be her decision and her decision alone.

Not that he was happy with the current situation, not even the tiniest bit. And although he made a conscious effort not to take out his unhappiness and disappointment on his colleagues at JAG, his subdued demeanour this week, especially when contrasted with his previous cheerfulness hadn't gone unnoticed by his co-workers, and especially one blue eyed, bright and bubbly blonde Lieutenant.

"Ma'am, do you know what's wrong with the Commander, these last few days?" Harriet cornered Carolyn Imes in the break room as the attorney waited for a fresh pot of coffee o brew.

"H'mm… Oh… Hi, Harriet… Got room for an éclair?" Carolyn turned and offered an open box of the pastries to Harriet.

"Oh… yes, thank you, ma'am," Harriet said carefully taking an éclair and placing it on a paper plate from the stack at the end of the counter, but then with a meaningful glint in her eye persisted, "But that's not answering my question, ma'am," she said in a reproachful tone.

"What question was that?" Carolyn asked in mock innocence.

"You know very well just what question it was, and don't answer a question with a question… Ma'am," Harriett paused just slightly before the honorific that followed her mom-mode statement.

"Okay… but what makes you think that I have any insight into what Commander Rabb thinks or feels?" Carolyn asked.

Harriet's eyes narrowed, but a moment's thought revealed the justice of the older woman's question. It wasn't as if the two Commanders had suddenly become extra friendly where previously they had only had a working, if cordial, relationship, but…

"It's just that you've been working with him more than usual ma'am. Going on investigations with him, facing him in court, or second-chairing each other… I just thought that he might have said something about why he's been so cheerful recently, and that might give you an inkling as to why he's so… withdrawn now…"

Carolyn sighed as she poured two cups of coffee and slid one gently towards Harriet, "Yeah, okay… I have been working with him more than previously, but if you think I've got anywhere near getting Commander Rabb to open up and talk to me about anything other than our investigations and cases then you're sadly mistaken. And as for the reason for his sudden… bout of depression, you're as wise as I am!"

"Oh… there's no real mystery there!" A new voice from the doorway interrupted the conversation.

"Ma'am?" Harriet asked cautiously as she turned to see Sarah MacKenzie propped against the door frame.

"Yeah, Mac, do tell…" Carolyn invited the Marine officer.

"Judging by his similar behaviour on previous occasions, I should say that it's nothing more than his latest bimbo having dumped him," Mac said somewhat callously as she manoeuvred past Harriet to the counter where she ladled sugar into her coffee mug.

"I didn't know the Commander was seeing anybody!" Harriet exclaimed feeling a mix of surprise, curiosity and chagrin that she had failed to pick up on any hint of a romance.

"Oh, yes," Mac said airily as she stirred her syrupy-sweet coffee and then her eyes lit on the still open box of éclairs, "Oh… These yours?" she asked Carolyn.

The Navy JAG nodded her head, "Help yourself," she invited Mac.

"Thanks! I'm just in the mood for something sweet today!"

"So, who is the Commander been seeing?" Harriet asked, her eyes dancing with inquisitiveness.

Mac grinned maliciously, "Oh… That little dwarf he used to fly with, Shakes or whatever her stupid nickname was…"

Harriet bristled slightly; she and Beth were about the same height, although the blonde had a more generous figure than the petite RIO. "I wouldn't have thought that, ma'am, after all, she's only been widowed three months, and I believe she's pregnant too. I'm sure if the Commander is spending time with her, then it's just as a friend, I mean they flew together, and pilots and RIO's have to bond tightly and become very good friends."

"Wouldn't be the first time that Rabb's made a play for a new widow… Remember Neurotic Annie? She was his best friend's widow, and he didn't lose any time making a move on her!"

"There was quite a gap between his friend's mishap and him… getting involved with the widow, though, if I remember rightly," Carolyn objected with a frown of recollection creasing her forehead, "Something over two years wasn't it? And didn't she move from the west coast to the DC area just to keep in touch with him before that?"

"Yeah, but he's hit on a widow once before, and so there can't be any doubt he'd do it again. Goes to establish prior patterns of behaviour," she quipped with a snarky snort of laughter. Mac then continued with smug satisfaction, "And anyway, once he did make a move on her, she didn't waste any time in getting out from under!" Mac persisted, airily waving off Carolyn's objection.

"Yeah… but this is different, ma'am," Harriet protested, "Beth – Skates – is pregnant, and I can't see the Commander being any more to her than he was to me when I was struggling with my pregnancy… do you remember he wheeled me once from my desk to the elevator? And then on another occasion when the elevator was out, I just couldn't face the stairs, and I was nearly in tears, he carried me up from the first floor!"

"And that's another thing!" Mac added triumphantly, "We've all seen how close Rabb is to that creature, it wouldn't surprise me to find out that the child is his and not her husband's!"

Carolyn put her mug down with a grimace of distaste, "That's going a bit too far, Mac!" she warned the other officer, "That's slander at the very least, and gossip-mongering of the worst kind. You'd be in a heap of trouble if the Admiral was to hear what you'd just said."

"Well, if you don't like what you're hearing, you can always leave." Mac said pointedly.

"Yeah, I can and I think I'll do just that!" Carolyn said severely, as she quickly rinsed her mug and left on the draining board to dry before turning with a last contemptuous look at Mac and walking out of the room.

"Hah! Running away, just like all Rabb's women! They do, you know Harriet, and who can blame them, him and his obsessions! He sucks all the joy out of life and eventually they've all had enough and they leave; his first two partners, Lieutenants Pike and Austin… Pike got reassigned to Okinawa and God knows where Austin went, she didn't even let anyone know where she'd been reassigned – at her own request too… And then Neurotic Annie, Jordan the Shrink – God_ she_ probably needed therapy after Rabb, and then the Video Princess, and now the Flying Dwarf; they all run screaming from him!"

"You know, ma'am, she's right," Harriet said cautiously.

"Of course she is! I don't like the woman, I never have, but she's doing the right thing in getting as far away from Rabb as fast as she can!"

"No ma'am, I mean Commander Imes… I don't know what's happened between you and the Commander, but you need to stop venting about him at any and every chance you get… If what you've just said ever came to the Admiral's ears…"

"So… he's got you under his spell too, has he Lieutenant?" Mac sneered.

Harriet coloured and bridled, "No! He hasn't! And if you're implying what I think you are, then you need to take a good hard look at yourself in the mirror, ma'am! It was bad enough insinuating that there was something dishonourable in his behaviour with Lieutenant Hawkes, but to even suggest that he and I… that we… No, you've gone too far!" Harriet gritted out between her teeth.

"Thank you for defending me, Harriet," Harm's voice came from the doorway, startling Harriet as she turned and saw him smiling gravely at her, "But it's entirely unnecessary, you don't have to fight my battles for me. You'd best get along now, before the Colonel here, writes you up for insubordination. Go on now…"

Harriet suddenly realised just how far she gone in ranting at Mac and with a red-faced and grateful, "Thank you, sir," she beat a hasty retreat.

The smile that Harm had on his face faded as he turned at looked at Mac, caught by his presence between her and the door, "She's right, Colonel, you do go too far. Now, you've got a problem with me and hell, that's okay, I can handle it. But Harriet is your friend, a very good friend, probably the closest and best friend you've got at JAG and you can't afford to lose her friendship. She's a very kind, forgiving, nurturing woman, so I suggest you give her some time – not too much – to get over the hurt you've dished out to her and then go and apologise. Of course, I know it's none of my never mind, but…" he shrugged and let his voice trail off.

"You're absolutely right, Commander. It is none of your business!" Mac snapped back at him, "Now, if you'll excuse me?" she arched an eyebrow at the doorway behind him and tapped an impatient foot on the floor.

"Of course, Colonel," Harm replied calmly, and stepped aside to allow the Marine to stalk out of the break room.

Harm watched her go and sadly shook his head. He'd heard scuttlebutt that she had been less than thrilled when she'd had to make a public apology to Judge Morrison's Legalman while he and Carolyn had been on the _Eisenhower_, and there was further rumour that she was attending mandatory anger management therapy. Well, on current performance it either looked like the therapy wasn't working or she still had a long way to go.

Mac strode across the bull pen back to her office seething with anger at the… the… arrogance of the man, at the way he'd been so…. So… so damned condescending and patronising! Once again she almost slammed the door to her office behind her, and let the blinds drop with a vengeance over the windows before she threw herself into her chair and sat back scowling discontentedly around the paper strewn chaos that was her office.

Eventually though as her anger cooled from a rolling boil to a gentle simmer she took in the value of Harm's words. He was right, damn him! She couldn't afford to lose Harriet as a friend, not only was she the closest and best friend she had at JAG, now that Rabb had turned his back on her, Harriet was probably the only real friend she had in Falls Church. While she was on friendly enough terms with the other attorneys, and she felt she could also rely on Gunny, they weren't, and in Gunny's case, couldn't be friends. She could only hope that a heartfelt apology and some sort of gesture of reconciliation would be enough to repair the damage she'd done.

Harriet hurried from the break room and headed straight for the women's head. How could Mac possibly think that of her? They were supposed to be friends! Yes, she'd always liked and admired the Commander, but the thought of anything intimate between them! No way! And even if she had ever been tempted to stray from the straight and narrow and betray her beloved Bud, the Commander had far too much dignity, and was far too honourable to ever to disgrace himself and her with an unlawful dalliance with a brother officer's wife!

She propped her hands against the washbasin surround and examined herself in the mirror, thank God she hadn't actually been reduced to tears, but there was no denying that she was red and puffy-eyed. With a sigh, she stripped off her jacket, rolled up her blouse sleeves and filled the wash basin with cold water. Cupping her hands, she bent over the basin and dashed the cold water onto her face, and then held her hands there, letting the coolness of the water counteract the heat in her eyes, and then became aware of a second presence. Straightening with a gasp of dismay at being found in such a vulnerable position, she groped blindly for a paper towel, only to have one put into her hand.

"Here, take this," a familiar but wholly unexpected voice offered.

Dabbing her eyes dry Harriet opened them to see the face of Loren Singer, her usual slightly cynical and supercilious grin on her face.

Suspicious as she might be of the other blonde's presence, and motive, her natural manners prompted Harriet to reply, "Thank you," as she took the proffered towel.

"You might want a couple of these too," Loren offered, placing a small bottle of aspirin on the counter top, "I know talking to the Colonel always gives me a headache."

Harriet looked at Loren more closely, the grin wasn't quite the same supercilious, smugly cynical grin the other officer habitually wore, but seemed to show a slight degree of warmth, even of concern, but before she could say anything Loren spoke again, "Oh… and I took the liberty of grabbing your purse and bringing it with me… I trust you have enough of a repair kit in there to get rid of the evidence?"

Harriet looked puzzled and Loren nodded meaningfully at the mirror over the washbasin. Harriet took one look at her reflection, and then at the sight of her smudged eye make-up gasped, "Oh! Ah… yes, thank you!" then she looked curiously at the other officer, her behaviour so much at odds with an officer noted for her selfishness and asked, "But why…?"

At once the smugness was back in Loren Singer's smile, "Maybe, because I dislike Colonel MacKenzie slightly more than I dislike you…" and with that Parthian shot, she turned and strolled casually out of the head.

**Thursday, 20****th**** December 2001  
1853hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE  
Washington DC  
(202353ZDec01)**

Harm was about to sit down to his solitary dinner, an asparagus and American cheese quiche, with salad when a knock at his apartment door stopped him.

With a sigh and a despairing last look at his hot dinner, he turned and crossed to the door, for once opening it without checking the Judas hole.

Slightly embarrassed Skates looked up at him nervously and said quietly, "Hi, Harm… May I come in?"

Harm frowned at the unexpected leap his heart gave, and that coupled with his look of surprise had Beth blushing, "No… I'm sorry I shouldn't have come…" and she turned away from the door.

"No! Wait!" Harm said urgently, so urgently that it sounded like an order, and Beth turned back to look at him over her shoulder one eyebrow raised indignantly.

"Uh... that came out a lot harsher than I meant it to," Harm gulped and added in a much milder tone, "Don't go Skates… come in, please?"

Beth turned back, "Do you really mean that?" she asked, still somewhat nervously.

Harm gulped and stood back from the door, making a sweeping gesture with one hand, "You are always welcome here, Beth, always. Didn't I once say to you that my house was your house? Well, I meant it then, and I haven't changed my mind."

With a shy smile stepped through the doorway, her fingers going to the buttons on her rain coat although she was not surprised to find as she shrugged out of it, that Harm was behind her, helping to ease it off her arms.

"Thanks", she murmured as she turned to face him, but to his surprise seemed to have difficulty in meeting his eyes.

"Is there something wrong, something the matter?" he asked in a voice of concern.

"No… not really…" Beth replied. Although she still wouldn't look him in the eye.

"Hey, this is me, you're talking to, your driver, remember? You never could lie to me," he said softly, as he reached put with a strong, gentle finger to her chin, and tilted her face up towards his.

Biting her lip, but hearing the concern in his voice, she eventually raised her eyes to search his face and then the tension seemed to flow out of her and once more she managed a weak version of her normal cheerful grin, "This… this is only a short visit… I'm on watch in an hour's time… but I couldn't leave it any longer… Harm…" she hesitated and swallowed, "I'm sorry… please don't be mad at me anymore?"

"Hey…" he took both her hands in his and led her towards the couch, "Whatever… here, let me arrange those cushions for you… gave you the idea that I'm mad at you?"

"Well… the way I yelled at you and practically threw you out of the apartment the last time you came to see me… and then you haven't called or come to see me since then… and I've missed you… So I'm sorry that I hurt you, and I've come to say that I do need you around… and that I need you not to be mad at me anymore…" her throat clogged up as she spoke, and Harm was dismayed to see her deep brown eyes filling with tears.

He dug into his pocket and pulled out a folded square of white linen, "Here, dry your eyes… there's no need for tears, Beth. I'm not mad at you, I never was mad at you. I was more mad at myself."

"If you weren't mad, why didn't you at least call?" a mystified Beth asked.

"Well you said not to call or visit, so I…"

"But that's just 'cause I was mad at you at that time, I didn't really mean it…" Beth interrupted in protest.

"Beth…I hoped that was the case, but I just couldn't chance it that I was wrong. I forget how many cases of sexual harassment, stalking, sexual assault and even rape that I've tried either as prosecutor or defence counsel, and in practically every case the defendant's excuse was, 'I didn't think she meant it', well I had to believe that you did mean it, and that meant I couldn't contact you, and I could only hope that you'd eventually contact me… and Beth… I am so very, very glad that you did!"

"Oh…" Beth said in a small voice, and then a slight measure of confidence returning she looked up at Harm with the beginnings of real smile, the first of the evening on her face, "So we're friends again?"

Harm shook his head, "No…" and smiled when he saw the disappointment start to dawn in her eyes, "No, Beth, not friends, 'again'; friends 'still'!

"Bastard," Beth said softly and then in a slightly louder voice, "Still and forever, hey?"

Harm just smiled and with a bewildering change of subject asked, "If you're on watch at twenty hundred, that means you were on from midnight until zero eight, right?"

"Yeah… so?"

"So did you eat yet?" Harm asked, with his tongue firmly in cheek.

Beth gaped at him in disbelief and then gave a shout of laughter, "Harmon Rabb, you are impossible!" she accused him.

"Not really, but I was just about to sit down to dinner when you knocked on the door."

"Oh… I thought I smelled something good when I walked in," Beth confessed, but then continued in a disappointed voice as she glanced at her watch, "But I daren't stay… if there's any sort of hold up on the road then I already stand a pretty good chance of being adrift…"

"That's okay… it's a quiche… take some with you, it's as good cold as it is hot, it's a lot healthier than most sandwiches, and there's plenty to go around," Harm said cajolingly.

Beth paused as she hauled herself to her feet, "You're going to keep on bugging me about that, aren't you?" she asked him accusingly.

"About eating healthy?" Harm asked as he cut and wrapped a wedge of the quiche for her, "Damn straight I am!" he grinned, "Here, put that in your purse," he instructed handing her a small Tupperware container as he turned to get her rain-coat from the peg.

Beth smiled and shrugged helplessly as she allowed Harm to help her put her coat on, but then turning to him she said seriously, "Tomorrow, I'm on the sixteen to twenty hundred watch, but I finish at sixteen hundred on Saturday… Come round for dinner, say nineteen hundred – I'll provide the food for once, and we'll see if we can work out some sort of protocol so that we don't bug each other and end up with another misunderstanding, okay?"

Harm nodded, "More, much more than okay," he agreed.

Then to his surprise Beth stepped forward and gave him a brief hug, "Until Saturday!" she promised and quickly slipped out of the door.

Harm watched her take the elevator before he closed the door and then with a thoughtful expression on his face he headed back towards what was left of his dinner, "Still friends forever?" he queried softly, bearing in mind his ruminations of the last forty-eight hours, "Oh… I hope not, I really hope not…"

**Friday December 21****st****, 2001  
1327hrs EST  
Restricted Barracks  
Anacostia Navy Base, MD  
(211827ZDec01)**

Harm stared in perplexity as the Crown Victoria disappeared around the corner, carrying with it the Lieutenant Commander OIC restricted barracks, which as he had just informed Harm was empty and closed the duration of the Christmas stand down. He turned to the young, attractive brunette petty officer, the responsibility for whom he'd been landed with by Judge Helfman. "Well, that's different!" he said unhelpfully.

"Yes, sir," the young woman replied, and then somewhat nervously asked, "What now sir? You're not going to take me to the brig for the holidays, like he said, are you, sir?"

"I ought to, ET Three," he said severely, but then he saw the disappointment on the young woman's face he added more thoughtfully, "or on the other hand, I could place you in the care of someone who would guarantee that you wouldn't go UA… I don't suppose you have any family in the area who would look after you?"

Jennifer Coates shook her head, "the only family I've got anywhere near here sir, is my father. He's a Minister up in Hagerstown, Maryland, but he more or less disowned me when I was fourteen and ran away from home." Her shoulders sagged, "So, I suppose it's the brig after all, sir?"

Harm looked at the young woman carefully, she'd been charged with going UA, petty theft, and resisting apprehension, in addition almost every other sentence of her mouth came very near crossing the line into insubordination, and it turned out that she had only joined the Navy to avoid a jail sentence for kiting checks and shoplifting. However, despite her record of ill-discipline there was something about her… Something that was perhaps still a core of innocence and vulnerability, and in that way, she reminded him with a pang of his long-gone partner Meg Austin. And in an instant he knew that whatever happened he was not going to see Jennifer Coates locked up for the Christmas holidays.

"Well, that's a little bit of a problem, but not an insurmountable one. Come on, back in the car!" he said decisively.

"Where are we going, sir?" Coates asked anxiously as she fastened her seat-belt.

"To see a friend of mine, she's got a spare room, and she might be willing to put you up! Now, if she does, I need you to bear in mind two things, first she's a recent widow, her husband was killed on nine eleven, and she's pregnant, with her late husband's child, oh, and she is a Lieutenant in the Navy as well, so no tricks. Understood?"

"Yes sir! But… She must be a pretty good friend if she'll take a stranger into her home just because you ask her."

"She is that ET Three, she is that!" Harm said with a smile.

**Friday December 21****st****, 2001  
1408hrs EST  
Beth Hawkes-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(211908ZDec01)**

Beth was just about at the stage of contemplating a second mug of coffee when the knock came at her apartment door. Frowning, tugged at the tie of her bathrobe and leaving the kitchen, she peered through the Judas hole of the front door. Recognising one of her visitors she opened the door, "Harm?" she queried.

"May we come in?" he asked.

"Uh… yes, yes, of course…" she stepped back to allow Harm and ET Three Coates to enter. "But I wasn't expecting you until tomorrow," she added, "remember I go on watch at sixteen hundred…"

"No I haven't forgotten…" He drew a deep breath, "And that is just one of the factors that makes what I'm about to ask such a huge favour…"

Beth's eyes flitted to the as yet still silent petty officer and sighed with a resigned smile, "Go on… what sort of a mess am I going to have to pull you put of this time?"

Harm grinned in relief, judging by Beth's words he almost knew that he's already won the favour, but still… "It is a huge ask, Beth, and if I had any other way…"

Beth crossed her arms in front of her chest, "Enough with the snow-job, Hammer and either fish or cut bait!"

Harm nodded, and turned halfway towards the young woman who had accompanied him, "ET Three, this Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell, so mind yourself. Beth this is ET Three Coates, she's my…" he drew a deep breath, "prisoner…" he stopped and waited for Beth's reaction.

"Pleased to meet you, ET Three," was all that Beth said.

"Yes, ma'am, pleased to meet you too," Coates responded.

Beth backed away and then turned to lead her visitors into the living room and then said, "Take a seat… Coates, while I fix us all some coffee… how do you take it?"

"Uh… with milk, but no sugar, thank you, ma'am."

"White, no sugar, coming right up… Hammer, could you give me a hand, please?"

Five minutes later Beth and Harm returned to the living room, Harm carrying a tray on which three mugs of coffee rested. "Here you go," he smiled at Coates, and then waited until all three had settled themselves before he spoke again. "Okay, here's the deal, Coates. Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell has agreed to put you up each night until the courts reconvene in the New Year. During the day you'll be in my custody, at nights you will be here with Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell. You are under curfew. There will be no going out in the evening, and you will mind what Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell says to you. If you screw up, or go UA there is no corner of the world dark enough, and no hole deep enough where you can hide that I won't find you. Understood?"

"Yes, sir!"

"Good. The one exception to the no being out after curfew is on Christmas Eve, when I shall escort you and the Lieutenant to a friend's house for a small party before we attend a Christmas Eve service. And that," he added as he saw the young woman about to object "is mandatory!"

"Yes, sir… but apart from what's in my sea-bag, I haven't got anything suitable to wear!"

"Well… I'm sure Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell can help out with that?" he cocked an inquiring eyebrow at his long-suffering friend, who shook her head in despair.

"We'll think of something, Coates."

"Yes, ma'am," the petty officer replied, wondering just why these two people were going so far out of their way to help a total stranger.

Harm waited until they had finished their coffees before he stood, "All right Beth, we'll get out of your hair now and let you get set for going on watch. I'll bring Coates back here after secure and sit with her until you get off watch, okay?"

"Okay, Hammer!" Beth grinned, but as she watched the two walk down the path to the car parked at the kerbside she shook her head worriedly, "Oh, Hammer what have you gotten yourself involved in now?" and realised with a pang that she was feeling a little insecure, even a little jealous.

**Friday December 21****st****, 2001  
1643hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(212143ZDec01)**

"I don't get. I just don't get it," Lieutenant Harriet Sims complained to Commander Imes. "For days he's been like a thunderstorm, or a volcano that you just know is about to pop. But look at him today; all of a sudden it looks like he hasn't got a care in the world!"

Carolyn Imes grinned as she caught Harm's eye as, with cover and briefcase in hand, and prisoner in tow he made a quick escape from the bull pen. "It's no use asking me, Lieutenant, I'm as much in the dark as you are, but I'm damned glad that whatever's happened has happened!"

"Amen to that, ma'am!" Harriet grinned, and then as her words sparked off a random thought, she added, "Talking about things religious, I take it you are coming to our place on Christmas Eve, for eggnog and sandwiches before Chaplain Turner's carol service?"

"Were we?" Carolyn Imes asked in some surprise, "talking about matters religious, I mean."

Harriet giggled, "Well no, not really but I did say Amen, and that is sort of religious, and it just seemed to connect. But you are coming, aren't you, ma'am? It is plus one, if that's what's making you hesitate?"

Carolyn laughed, "Stop fishing, Lieutenant. Wild horses wouldn't keep me away from one of your parties, but whether I come with a plus one or stag… Well, you'll just have to wait and see!"

Harriet merely giggled again, and with a grin she sauntered away towards her desk to collect her own cover and briefcase case before securing for the weekend.

Desk drawers locked and computer powered down Harriett left the bull pen and strolled down the corridor towards Bud's office, passing Loren Singer on the way as the blonde attorney waited for the elevator. Harriet gave the other woman a pleasant nod as their eyes met, but Harriet was two steps past Loren before the thought occurred to her. Turning, she said, "Loren we're having a bit of a get together at our house on Christmas Eve, it's just an informal thing, eggnog and finger snacks before we all go to the Chapel for Chaplain Turner's Christmas message and carol service."

Loren hesitated for a few seconds and then gave a slight shrug of her shoulders, "I did have other plans, but they've fallen through, so, yes, thank you."

Harriet nodded, and then said shrewdly, "It may not quite be what you are used to, but it's got to be better, if your other plans have fallen through, than sitting around an empty apartment on your own on Christmas Eve!"

**Sunday, December 23rd****, 2001  
0821hrs EST  
Harmon Rabbs' Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE  
Washington DC  
(231321ZDec01)**

Out of habit, Harm checked the caller ID before he picked up the phone, "She's getting too damned good at this!" he muttered as he cast a longing glance at the piping hot bowl of oatmeal he had just put on the kitchen island, next to a similarly hot mug of coffee and a tall glass of OJ.

"'Morning, Beth, what can I do for you?" he asked, hoping like hell she hadn't called him to tell him that Coates had absconded during the night.

"More like the other way round," Beth's voice sounded far too cheerful for this early in the morning he thought morosely, "Coates and I had a bit of a talk, and the poor girl's got practically nothing to wear that's fit to be seen in public, so I know you said you'd look after her during the day, but I thought I'd take her shopping for this morning, and then deliver her to your place for lunchtime… if that's okay with you?"

"Um… yeah…" Harm floundered, "If you're sure, and it's not too much trouble… and if you promise you won't overdo things… I mean… uh… well…" Harm was suddenly conscious that he might be overstepping the bounds (or ROE as he mentally called them) that he and Beth had hammered out on Friday evening after she had come off watch.

"I'll be fine, Hammer, we're only going up Penn Avenue for a short distance, there's a bunch of retail outlets at Forestville, about five miles away… Besides," Beth's voice became loaded with mischief, "It'll be good for me."

Harm sighed, knowing that he shouldn't bite, but knowing also that he was going to, "Go on… how is it good for you?" he fed Beth the line.

"Well… they don't call it retail therapy for nothing!" Beth giggled.

"Ouch!" Harm grinned, "Well, okay, see you at lunchtime!"

"Yeah, 'bye, Hammer."

Harm gave a rueful look at his rapidly cooling oatmeal and with a resigned mumble of, "Oh well," took his seat and dug his spoon into the no longer piping hot mass.

As he ate his good humour resurfaced, at least without Coates hanging on his shirt tail he could get out and hit the local stores for some much needed extra groceries, especially, if as he now planned, there would be three for Christmas dinner.

**Monday, December 24****th****, 2001  
The Roberts' Apartment  
1174 S Manchester Street  
Falls Church VA**

Harm rapped on the door of the Roberts' apartment hoping fervently that his faith in Harriet's Southern-bred hospitality wasn't misplaced. On arriving at Beth's to pick up her and Coates for the evening, he had found their numbers unexpectedly augmented by one. Lieutenant David Medwick, otherwise known as 'Tuna' had just arrived from the _USS Seahawk_ on furlough and had dropped in on his old squadron mate to see how she was adjusting to life ashore and also to becoming a mother.

David Medwick was delighted to see Hammer again. They had not only served and flown together with the Raptors, but Medwick owed his liberty and quite possibly his life to Harm after the latter had used his F-14's canopy against the other's F-14's Tailhook to push his stricken jet out of enemy airspace.

There wasn't much else Harm could do under the circumstances other than to invite Tuna along, and hope that a second unanticipated guest wouldn't throw Harriet's catering out by too much.

He needn't have worried. Harriet opened the door with a beaming smile and then blinked, "Good evening, sir!"

Good evening, Harriet," Harm managed creditably, noting the lively curiosity that sprung to life in the blonde Lieutenant's eyes. He stepped aside and made a waving gesture and as each member of his party stepped forward he introduced them, "Harriet, I think you remember Beth Hawkes, she was my RIO aboard the _Seahawk_ and when we took that unexpected bath… and this is ET Three Coates… I… uh… am... looking after her for the holidays…"

"Come on in Lieutenant… or may I call you Beth?"

"Please do," the petite RIO smiled, "As long as I can call you Harriet?"

"Of course you can… and ET Three is so awkward… and in you're in my home, so you are?"

"Jennifer Coates, ma'am."

Harm smiled in relief, Harriet was taking the sudden additions remarkably well, "And last but not least, Lieutenant David Medwick, or Tuna!"

Harriet's eye took in Medwick's service dress blues and lit on the gold wings above his ribbons. "I was going to ask what sort of nickname that was!" she chuckled, "But I see it's just one of those names you aviators torment each other with! But never mind all that; come on in all of you. Coats go in the dining room, sir, and everyone else is in the lounge.

Harm's eyebrows raised a fraction, "Are we the last to arrive?" he asked.

"Not quite, we're still waiting for the Admiral and Tiner. Tiner's going to babysit for us when we go to the service. But go! Go on in!"

While they were ditching their coats Harm took the opportunity to quietly caution Coates, "Remember you are a guest in this house, and that almost everyone you meet will be an officer, from a Two Star Admiral down to a couple of Ensigns, so be careful what you say, you really don't want to add any charges of insubordination to your record!"

"No, sir," Coates replied dutifully.

"And watch what you're drinking. By all means have a glass or two of wine, or a bottle or two of beer, but take it easy. And do not even think of slipping out when I'm not looking! Got it?"

"Roger that, sir!" Coates replied

"Good… and don't worry, I won't abandon you!" he promised her.

"A little hard on her weren't you, Harm?" Beth asked as Coates slipped through the door to join the party. "I had quite a long talk with her yesterday and today… she's had it pretty tough and she's really no more than a rebellious teenager… and I think that underneath all that brashness she's got a good heart."

"The thing is Beth, she's not a teenager anymore…"

"No, she's not… for one thing, I think she's got the guts to admit responsibility for her mistakes, and the wit and wisdom to learn from them."

"Ya think?"

"Yes, I do think… provided she's given the chance," Beth finished with a significant look.

"Oh, okay… I must admit, I think I saw something in her that might be worth saving, which is why I didn't want to throw her in the brig for the holidays!"

Beth smiled up at him and tucked her hand into his elbow, "Good… now that's settled, do you think you could find somewhere for me to sit? My feet are killing me!"

Harriet, when appealed to, was all too ready to help in finding Beth a comfortable seat, unceremoniously turfing a pair of ensigns from their position on the couch and arranging a quantity of throw-pillows to provide Beth with some lumbar support. And pretty soon blonde and brunette Lieutenants had their heads together discussing matters maternal and to do with child-bearing. Beth grew round eyed but couldn't help chuckling at the other woman's humorous account of little A J's birth on the floor of the Admiral's office… "And there's the master mid-wife himself!" Harriet smiled as her husband opened the door to admit Chegwidden and Tiner, and with a smile the blonde excused herself to go and welcome the two newly arrived guests.

In the meantime Jennifer Coates had taken stock of the room and bearing in mind Harm's strictures, she had grabbed a paper plate and added a couple of sandwiches to it, before helping herself to a bottle of mineral water and retreated to a corner until her eye was caught by a flash of Navy blue. A young man in the uniform of an FC Three had grabbed a couple of empty serving plates from the buffet and had whisked them away into the kitchen Jen followed him and smiled at him, a lot more confidently than she felt. "Can I give you a hand with that?" she offered.

Mikey Roberts straightened in surprise and looked in open admiration at the attractive brunette for a second before he remembered that his brother's workmates were mostly officers and decided to play it safe. "Uh… no thanks, ma'am, I've got it under control!"

Jen smiled, "Not ma'am, Jennifer Coates, ET Three…" she introduced herself.

Mikey Roberts gave a grin of relief, "Well in that case…"

Loren had seen Jennifer head into the kitchen and was troubled by the vague ideas that she had seen the younger woman somewhere before and then a light bulb in her mind glowed into life. The brunette's hair fell in a shining cascade three quarters of the way down her back, and her knee-length tan suede skirt and crimson V-neck sweater – cashmere, if Loren was any judge – was a far cry from a French braid and service dress blues, but she was certain that the last time she had seen the petty officer was when Judge Helfman committed her to Harmon Rabb's custody with instructions to take her to the secure barracks.

Putting her drink carefully down on a coaster, she edged her way through the crowd towards Harm where he stood in casual conversation with Carolyn Imes and her 'plus one' a Marine Major from the barracks at Eighth and I.

"Excuse me for interrupting," she said to Carolyn and the Marine, before turning to Harm, "Commander, what is your prisoner doing here?"

Harm sighed, he had half-been expecting this, "The secure accommodation was closed, so rather than throw her in the brig for the holidays, I decided to keep her in my custody."

"What were you thinking, sir?! Where did she spend the last couple of nights? Oh… I'm sorry sir, that came out much harsher than I meant, but… people will wonder… sir." Loren added somewhat lamely.

Harm had detected the concern in the Lieutenant's voice and flashed an easy grin, "Power down, Loren, she's spending the nights with Beth Hawkes." A nod of his head indicated whom he meant, "And I let her tag along with me during the day. You might want to think about giving her a break, you know. She's not a bad kid."

Loren shook her head doubtfully, "I'll bear that in mind, sir! Commander, Major." She made her farewells to Carolyn and her escort and stepped back, heading towards her temporarily abandoned diet Pepsi.

"Taming the savage beast, Harm?" Carolyn asked, openly surprised at the other blonde's non-confrontational manner.

"Nothing to do with me, but for some reason Loren's acting more and more like a human being these days," Harm agreed, his eyes following the blonde officer as she worked her way through the crowd, 'And well worth watching!' he told himself. Loren was wearing a deep crimson, silk, knee-length, sleeveless dress with a high Mandarin collar, which without being immodest showed off her figure to perfection, a figure that he hadn't even been aware she possessed, hidden as it usually was by the unflattering cut of her uniform.

As his eyes tracked her across the room, they also fell on Mac, standing in deep conversation with Alan and Jackie Mattoni, but while he was deeply appreciative of the picture Loren Singer presented, he couldn't appreciate Sarah MacKenzie's ensemble. She had chosen a dark, almost Navy blue pants suit, which wouldn't have been so bad if it hadn't been for the vibrant scarlet lapels which gave it a pseudo-military look but which also unfortunately drew attention to her cleavage, the jacket fastening so low on her chest that it was obvious, especially from any sort of sideways angle that Mac had decided to forgo the support of a bra on this occasion. In Harm's eyes the outfit was cheap and sleazy, especially as when she turned he could see that the jacket was cut so short that it was easy to see that the pants fit her derrière more than just snugly.

But Mac evidently preened herself on the picture she presented, and she had deliberately chosen her outfit in the hope of once more attracting Harm Rabb's attention. That he had decided to turn up accompanied by not one, but two attractive brunettes – even if one of them was the pregnant widow – only added extra fuel to her anger based disappointment.

"It's pathetic!" she almost spat at Jackie Mattoni, "but so damned typical of him! It looks like he's totally incapable of forming any sort of meaningful relationship with a normally adjusted woman, but no, he has to latch on to needy widows… it's almost as if he has some sort of radar that allows him to home in on them!"

Jackie was completely unprepared for the vitriol that spewed from Mac's mouth and she turned a helpless look on her husband, who stepped into the breach, a frown of censure on his face. "As I understand it, Mac, Lieutenant Hawkes was Harm's RIO when he was flying, and that, so I'm told forges a bond that no-one who hasn't shared it can possibly understand. I've also heard that she somehow managed to pull him back to life when he nearly died of hypothermia, trying to fulfill a promise he made to _you_! I also understand that the Lieutenant subsequently married and then lost her husband in the Pentagon on nine eleven. So I am pretty certain that all you're seeing is Harm looking after an old friend who has no-one else in the immediate area to whom she can look for support!"

Mac looked entirely unimpressed with Alan Mattoni's argument and merely sniffed, "Whatever!" she said scornfully, somehow managing to sound like a spoiled teenage Valley Girl instead of a Lieutenant Colonel of Marines.

Alan took his wife's elbow gently in his hand, "I don't think we've met Carolyn's date yet," he suggested. "If you'll excuse us, Colonel," and with a slight nod of his head in farewell, he guided his wife across the room towards Carolyn Imes.

Harriet cast a slightly worried look around the room. She had seen Jennifer Coates disappear into the kitchen hot on Mikey's heels over ten minutes ago and while she was absolutely certain that her brother-in-law wouldn't indulge in any inappropriate behaviour, Jennifer Coates was an entirely unknown quantity.

To her relief when she entered the kitchen it was to find Mikey leaning against the draining board while Jen sat back to front on one of the kitchen chairs, both holding a half consumed beer and from what she could tell, chuckling at each other's stories about nightmare officers they knew. But even so…

"Mikey, why don't you go and see if Bud needs a hand in the lounge, I think you'll find him talking to the Admiral."

Mikey blanched at the thought of interrupting a Two-Star, "Harriet…"

"Just go, Mikey!"

"Yes, ma'am!" Mikey swallowed the rest of his beer and with a resigned "Later…" to Jen, he rolled his eyes and left the two women alone.

Harriet smiled with satisfaction and pulled a chair out from underneath the kitchen table, "We haven't had a chance to talk yet, Jennifer. Did I hear you and the Commander right, that you are his prisoner?"

"Yes, ma'am," Jen said resignedly, waiting for the disapproval, but to her surprise all she saw in Harriet Sim's eyes was lively curiosity. "It's kinda like this…" Jen went off into an abbreviated but comprehensive recounting of just how she'd ended up at Harriet's party, finishing with, "But I just don't get it ma'am. My own DO more or less washed his hands of me, but here are the Commander and Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell both going out of their way to help me, and keep me out of the brig…"

"Oh, that's an easy one to answer Jennifer. He saw something in you worth saving, and he cares about people…" Harriet smiled sympathetically as she saw the younger woman's eyes brim with tears, and she got the awful feeling that Jennifer Coates hadn't met many people in her life that did care.

She reached out and covered one of Jennifer's hands with her own, "What do you want Jennifer, besides staying out of the brig?"

Jen shrugged and smiled mistily, "A good man, a good career, and a couple of kids at the end of it… Two out of three wouldn't be bad." she said wistfully.

"Do you know what that makes you?" Harriet said gravely.

"No, ma'am,"

"Just like the rest of us!" Harriet grinned, "Come on, you've been hiding in here for too long, let me introduce you to some of the others."

Loren drained her glass and was about to head for the sideboard where an array of soft drinks and bottled beer stood in buckets of ice when she became aware of a Lieutenant in service dress at her elbow, offering her a condensation beaded bottle of diet Pepsi. "I hope you don't mind, but I asked someone what you were drinking, and they told me that you usually drink this stuff."

For a moment Loren nearly froze him out, 'But what the hell, it is Christmas, and he's not that bad looking… in fact that's quite a nice smile… and aviators' wings too.'

"Thank you," she smiled, accepting the fresh drink.

"David Medwick," he introduced himself with a second smile.

"Loren Singer," she replied and to her own surprise, offered him her hand. "And just how do you fit in with JAG?" she asked out of idle curiosity.

"Oh, I don't, not really… I'm on leave, and I stopped off to visit with Skates… I used to fly with her…" his voice became grave. "A damn' shame about her husband. But while I was there, Hammer turned up and more or less dragged me along here…"

"Hammer?" Loren wrinkled her brow.

"Oh… Commander Rabb; Hammer was his call sign, and speaking of him, here's the man himself..."

"Loren, Tuna… I'm glad you two have found each other, it makes what I'm about to ask much easier."

"What… sir?" Loren asked suspiciously.

"Well…" Harm fidgeted uneasily, "After the service I need to get Skates and Coates back to Upper Marlboro and then I need to make one more call before I call it quits for the night. Tuna here has got a room at the Georgetown Suites Harbor… would you mind giving him a ride from the chapel at the end of the evening?" He turned a full-power mega-watt smile on the blonde Lieutenant, and although her first inclination had been to refuse, she felt her knees weaken and her pulse rate increase and found herself saying, "Yes, of course, it's no trouble!"

"Thanks, Loren. That really has made life much easier! I'll leave you two to get acquainted," he grinned, and then to Loren's horror she felt herself blush as Harm dropped her a broad wink.

"Something wrong, Lieutenant?" Tuna asked anxiously.

"No… no… nothing wrong… and if I'm going to be your chauffeuse, you had best call me Loren!"

Harm dropped into the empty space next to Skates, which had just been vacated by CC. "Everything all right, Beth? I'm, sorry I haven't been able to spend much time with you, but every time I tried to get to you, somebody else beat me to it!"

"I'm fine, everybody been so kind to me, except maybe Colonel MacKenzie – if looks could kill! But yeah, right!" Beth answered in a voice deep laden with irony, "You couldn't get near me! Like you weren't working the room, and trying to fix Tuna up with that blonde shark – Commander Yenta!"

"Well… maybe…" Harm laughingly confessed, "But Loren's not quite the predator – or is that alien? – she used to be…"

**Monday, December 24****th****, 2001  
2350hrs EST  
Episcopalian Chapel  
Falls Church VA  
(250450ZDec01) **

It was nearly the end of Chaplain Turner's sermon that Harm became aware that Beth, sitting on the far side of Coates was crying softly into a wad of Kleenex. He cursed himself for his suspicious notion that had made Coates sit between the two of them and fretted until Sturgis' father had finished his sermon with a general blessing. With a curt, "With me!" to Coates he had brushed past her and helped Beth to her feet, placing a protective arm around her waist as he guided her out of the chapel, pausing only to mutter brief thanks to the Chaplain as they left the comparative warmth of the chapel and walked out into the chill night air where more flakes of snow were falling to add to the thin white blanket already on the ground.

Guiding Beth to the side, out of the flow of pedestrian traffic as the congregation, most of them oblivious to the pregnant officer and her tears, bustled past, keen to get out of the cold night air and into the warmth of their cars. But to Harm's great surprise the one individual who did stop and with what sounded like genuine concern inquired, "Is the Lieutenant, okay, sir? Is there anything I can do to help?"

Harm looked up, he was currently holding Beth so that her head was nestled into his shoulder, while his chin rested on her head, as he made soothing circles on her back with one large hand, while Coates stood a few feet away, temporarily forgotten, a look of concern on her face.

Harm raised his head and looked at his questioner, "No. no thank you, Lieutenant Singer, Lieutenant Hawkes will be fine in a couple of minutes, I'm sure."

Loren Singer nodded, "Very good, sir. In that case I'll leave you alone. Goodnight, sir… and a merry Christmas, and to you too, ET Three," she added to an astounded Coates. "And please pass on my wishes to the Lieutenant, sir." Loren nodded a final time and then turned to Lieutenant Medwick, who like Coates had been hovering anxiously in the background.

"If you want that ride back to Georgetown, Lieutenant, don't just stand there!"

Harm turned out to be a prophet, Loren's words had obviously carried though to Beth, and she raised her head, managed a watery smile and whispered a husky, "You too, Lieutenant." She waited until Loren had moved off and looked up at Harm, "Sorry, didn't mean to dissolve into a blubbering mess…"

"That doesn't matter… as long as you're okay now?" Harm asked anxiously.

"I will be," Skates mumbled, "As soon as I can fix myself up a little…" and then as she became aware of the position she and Harm were in, she pushed back, away from him, and Harm reluctantly dropped his arms.

"I'm okay now… shall we go?"

"Yeah, let's get you – and Coates – out of the cold…."

**Tuesday December 25****th****, 2001  
0028hrs EST  
Beth Hawkes-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(250528ZDec01)**

No sooner had they closed the door behind them when Coates yawned hugely, and then smilingly embarrassed – or at least pretending to be Harm thought, said, "Wow… I didn't realise I was so tired, so if you'll excuse me, sir, ma'am, I'll head on up straight to bed.

Harm gave her a shrewd look, the young woman didn't look in the slightest bit tired, but as their eyes met he read her intent to give he and Beth some privacy, and with a slight shrug Coates gave him a shy smile and turned and headed for the stairway. Harm relieved Beth of her coat and walked her into the lounge, leaving her to repair the damage to her make-up while he dodged into the kitchen to reappear within minutes clutching two mugs of frothy topped hot chocolate.

Handing one mug to Beth he sat in one of the armchairs and asked gently, "What was all that about Beth?"

Beth looked up her lips in a tightly compressed line and a stubborn expression on her face.

Harm grinned, "Nope not going to work. I ain't leaving until I know you're all right. Beth you're one of the strongest-minded women I've ever met, so to see you break down like that is a bit of a shock to the system…"

"What? I'm not allowed emotions now?" Beth demanded.

"Yes, of course you are… but… look Beth, you know I worry…"

Beth sighed and she sank back against her supporting cushions, "I'm too spent to argue with you, Harm, so okay, just this once… It was the sermon; it was a beautiful sermon; that man can surely get the message across, can't he? But it was the subject, all about fathers, and it got me to thinking about Jason being this little one's father, and how he or she will never know him, and what a wonderful, loving man he was. He would have been such a good father, Harm…"

"Yes, I didn't know him well, we only met a handful of times, but yes, I'm sure he would have been," Harm agreed soberly. "But you're sure you're okay now?"

Beth nodded and smiled, although the smile was still a bit uncertain, Harm thought. "I'll be fine… and you're edging near the line again!"

"In that case, I'll get out of your hair! See you both at…"

"Make it eleven thirty hours Harm… that'll give me time to speak with my folks, and with Jason's mom and dad."

"Okay, eleven thirty it is. Goodnight Beth."

"Goodnight Harm," she smiled.

Harm walked swiftly down the footpath to the waiting Lexus and climbed in, the interior of the vehicle still thankfully warm. He fired up the engine and took the road to central DC, he still had one more call to make…

He parked the car and getting out, he shivered briefly as he began the walk down the long path in front of the long, black wall, until he reached that section of the wall that he knew so well, stripping the leather glove from his right hand, he stretched out a finger and traced the gold letters. "Hi, Dad… it's Christmas again…"


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

**Monday 7****th**** January 2002  
1021hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(071521ZJan02)**

Harm looked at the now-nervous petty officer sitting in one of the visitors' chairs on the opposite side of his desk. He wasn't quite sure what had gone on between Beth and Jennifer Coates, but whatever it was, she had come to him this morning with a bewildering one hundred eighty degree change of attitude. She no longer wanted out of the Navy and had agreed to plead guilty to all charges in return for a reduced sentence.

Slightly stunned by her request Harm had taken it to a surprisingly co-operative Loren Singer and had hammered out a deal. Loren would drop the resisting apprehension arrest and the misdemeanour petty theft if Coates would accept thirty days confinement and loss of one step in rate.

Harm had countered with the argument that for a short period of UA thirty days confinement was sufficient punishment and once more to his surprise, Loren had, after some hesitation, agreed. Coates had jumped at the deal and it was now all signed, sealed and delivered and Harm was just waiting for an MP or MAA brig chaser to collect Coates and take her to the Navy Yard brig in DC. A knock on his office door alerted him to the arrival of the MAA and with a grin of encouragement he stood. "It's time, Coates."

"Aye, aye, sir!" Jen stood and squared herself away, visibly bracing herself for what lay ahead. Harm felt a twinge of sympathy for the young woman and stepped around his desk and held out his hand in farewell.

"Good luck Coates." He heard himself say gruffly, "It's not the end of the world, and if you keep your nose clean, you'll be out in eighteen days."

"Yes, sir! Thank you, sir!" Coates said taking his hand in her much smaller one and then taking Harm totally by surprise she used his hand as leverage and raise on her tip-toes before planting a swift, feather light kiss on his cheek. Then dropping back onto her feet, she grinned mischievously at a furiously blushing JAG Commander, "I suppose they could give me brig time for that too, sir!"

"They could that, ET Three, they could that!" Harm agreed with an anxious glance at a suddenly oblivious MAA Petty Officer First Class.

"Hell, it was worth it!" Coates twinkled at him, unconsciously echoing Beth, "Goodbye, sir! Are you ready MAA One? Let's blow this popsicle stand!" And she picked up her sea-bag and was gone.

**Saturday, March 9****th****, 2002  
2207hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE  
Washington DC  
(100307ZMar 2002)**

Harm closed the apartment door, shrugged off his reefer and hung it in one of the pegs on the back of the door. He had a feeling that the worst of the cold weather was now over and he wouldn't be needing the heavy jacket again until late fall.

He wandered into the kitchen and snagged a beer from the fridge, twisting the cap off and throwing it into the trash before strolling back through to the living room and slumping on the couch. He raised his beer to the empty room and said, "Here's to you Bud!" and grinned. Today, had been Bud's farewell party before he shipped out on Monday to join the _USS Seahawk _and Harm as the designated driver for himself and Beth had confined himself to soft drinks and water for the duration of the party. Now with Beth safely returned to Upper Marlboro – at nearly seven months pregnant she got tired quickly – he was at last able to treat himself to a beer and kick back and relax.

Despite all, though, it had been a pretty good party, and the rest of the JAG crew were getting used to Harm turning up at social events with Beth on his arm and had, with one notable exception, apparently accepted his explanation that he and his former RIO were not dating. And Harriet… well… Harriet had been so supportive and helpful… even today while she was trying to keep a brave face in the light of Bud's imminent departure, she had come up with sea-bag full of baby clothes which she had passed on to Beth saying that as little A J grew bigger and needed more clothes, she just hadn't got the space for his baby things any longer.

In fact… Harm let his mind wander back over the last couple of months since Christmas, it had been a pretty good past few weeks, and one of the highlights was the behaviour of Loren Singer… she hadn't turned into Dorothy overnight, but she seemed to be making an effort not to be the Wicked Witch of Washington, well not full time anyway, although there were still flashes of the former, acerbic, ambitious attorney, and Harm wondered if the occasional delivery of a bouquet of flowers to the blonde Lieutenant had anything to do with her attitude adjustment. Loren being Loren was, of course, steadfastly refusing to name the source of the floral offerings that arrived on her desk, but Harm had his own reasons (intel originating from the Raptors' ready room via 'Boomer' Jonas, Tuna's RIO) for believing that he knew exactly from where the flowers were originating, and had made a small bet with himself that when the PH's current deployment ended at the end of April, that a certain aviator Lieutenant with a fishy call sign would be visiting JAG.

And another thing… even Mac hadn't been able to keep up such a high level of concentrated hostility for so long a period, and although they weren't friends, at least she managed to be civil to him when they needed to speak on professional matters – and that was a huge improvement – although there was still no non-professional contact between them. He shrugged, not that he missed it; not that he even had time to miss it. He was far too busy. He and Beth had worked out a phone call and visiting schedule that half-pleased them both. Except at weekends, unless other plans intervened, when, under Beth's supervision, he would do the week's heavy housework, he would call her only once a day, the exact time depending on her watch schedule and he would only visit on those days she came off watch at sixteen hundred, when he would either cook for her, or order in pizza or Chinese before she went back on watch at midnight, or now, as the weather improved just for a quick snack and then a slow stroll through one of DC's many parks where there were benches on which she could rest as and when required. And these days, it seemed that she didn't as much rest as she did before Christmas, neither for that matter was she yawning her head off by early evening.

"It's simple," she'd told him, "And perfectly normal. Pregnant women get very tired during the first trimester as their bodies adjust to the changes. In the second trimester they've become used to their condition and their energy levels rise again." Then she gave a resigned sigh, "But it's only a temporary reprieve, the third trimester will probably see fatigue on the increase again, but that's mainly due to the extra load I'll be carrying! Well, that's my theory, anyway!" then she gave another little chuckle, "Of course, there's always the hormones to blame!"

Harm had dutifully chuckled with her, although inwardly he winced. He had been present on more than one occasion when Beth's hormones had got the better of her, and he still wasn't quite sure what was worse, an inconsolable, blubbering Beth or an irate, vengeful fury whose most frequently voiced desire was for the eradication of the entire male population of the world. In neither case did a calm, rational counter argument seem to be anything than completely counterproductive at best or potentially suicidal at worst!

Harm raised his half-consumed beer, "Here's to hormone-driven mood swings!" he toasted with an ironically rueful grin.

Still, each time Beth had dissolved or torn him a new six she had later apologised, looking at him with those deep brown eyes brimming with remorse and embarrassment, and because he knew the driving force behind her outbursts he unhesitatingly forgave them.

But, he reflected as he leaned back against the squabs and stretched his long legs out in front of him, although in many ways his friendship with Beth was closer, if that was possible, than when she had been his full-time RIO, it was also, as a result of his conscious mind's conflict with his growing feelings, less comfortable, much less comfortable.

Shaking his head at the sudden sensation of melancholy that swept over him, he hauled himself to his feet, and detouring via the kitchen area he dropped the now empty beer bottle on the trash before turning and heading for the bathroom, a shower and then bed.

**Sunday, March10****th****, 2002  
1711hrs EST  
Beth Hawkes-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(102211ZMar 2002)**

"M'mm… this is really good!" Beth enthused as she carried another forkful towards her mouth.

"Oh... it's just a little something I threw together," Harm said airily, although he was, as always, pleased when Beth enjoyed the food he had prepared.

"Yeah, it's great, so knock it off with the mock modesty!" Beth grinned across at him even as she growled. "So what's in it?"

"Oh, just a dash of olive oil and a touch of garlic," Harm said nonchalantly.

Beth put her fork down and tore off a chunk of the still-warm crusty bread and dipped it into the sauce. "Give, Hammer! What's in it?" she asked more sternly.

"Fish, obviously; in this case Gurnard and John Dory, potato, red wine – alcohol free – and like I said, garlic, olive oil, with onions, tomatoes, paprika, fennel… just about anything I had to hand really. But it's the good quality fish and the fennel that really makes it work."

"Well whatever… it certainly does work… at least for me!" Beth agreed taking up her fork again.

"Good!" Harm smiled in satisfaction as silence fell until Beth pushed her empty soup plate away with a sigh of satisfaction.

"Had enough?" Harm queried with a teasing smile.

"God, yes!" Beth exclaimed, "That was really great!"

"Good!" Harm smiled back, as always happy that Beth had enjoyed the meals he made for her… but there was something about her expression that told him she was feeling uncomfortable about something. "What's wrong, Beth?" he asked gently.

Her eyes flew to his face, "Oh… there's nothing wrong… but there's something I need, no I want to… to… to ask you, but I'm not sure I should… and I don't want to put any pressure on you, or have you agree because you feel obliged to… and…"

"Okaaaay…" Harm drawled, "But you're not making much sense. Why don't you go on through to the lounge, while l police this stuff and put some coffee on. And while I'm doing that, perhaps you could put your thoughts in order and marshal a decent argument?"

Beth managed a weak grin, "Okay… I can do that… I think…"

Ten minutes later he handed her a mug of coffee, remembering at almost the last minute that she had recently changed her preference from black, sweetened coffee to a milky unsweetened. He smiled at the memory of when her preference had changed. They had been in his apartment and he'd brewed the coffee as normal. Beth had thanked him, taken a deeply appreciative sniff of the aroma and had taken a sip of he drink, which she had had to fight to swallow before she looked at him with an expression of horror on her face, "God! This is disgusting!" she had complained.

"What' wrong with it?" Harm had asked a bewildered expression on his face. He had tasted his drink and it seemed perfectly normal to him, and he and Beth both took their coffee the same way, except for the sugar…"Oh… don't tell me I forget to sweeten yours?" he asked already half-rising from his seat.

"No… if anything it's too sweet…" Beth had complained, "Could you pour me a fresh one… but leave out the sugar… and maybe add a drop of milk or cream?" she added plaintively..

Harm let his eyebrows rise in surprise but perhaps wisely had said nothing, returning with a fresh cup of coffee and watched anxiously as Beth took a healthy sip, "Ohhh… that's better!" she had said in a voice of the deepest satisfaction.

He was brought back to the here and now by Beth's voice, sharpened with a hint of exasperation, "Hammer!"

"Uh… yes?" he blinked across the intervening space at her.

"Where were you?" she demanded. "Four times I had to call you!"

"Not so much a matter of where, but when, I was remembering the evening you suddenly decided you didn't like coffee the way you'd drunk it for years anymore."

The look Beth gave him was frankly sceptical, "Yeah… suuure… and that's what bought that goofy smile on?"

"Was I smiling? I never realised!" Harm said with real surprise.

"H'mph!" Beth was plainly still not satisfied but she put her discontent behind her, "Well, now that I've got you here, and I've had a chance to put my thoughts in order… I have a favour to ask you…"

"Of course! Name it and it's yours!"

"Hold on hot-shot, until I ask before you start promising anything!" Beth cautioned him.

Harm leaned back against his chair, smiled and said, "So… cut to the chase, and ask away!"

"Um… next Sunday, Betty Jackson, my OIC, remember? Well it's her husband's birthday on Wednesday, but because we're on watch until Saturday, they're not celebrating it until Sunday, when she's having a small party, just the crew and their partners… and I was wondering if you'd have the time to take me…. And I know you don't really know anybody who'll be there, but it's quite early; eighteen hundred and just for a couple of hours. Please?"

"Of course I'll be your escort," Harm grinned, "And just for the record, I do know Betty Jackson, only slightly, but we have met."

"Oh! Thank you. Thank you so much. I really wasn't looking forward to going alone, and you know how tricky it is saying no to an invitation from your CO…."

"No worries, Beth, and no thanks needed. She lives in base housing as I recall, so I'll pick you up at about seventeen thirty hours?"

"Yes, that would be good… but now… If you'll give me a hand up, I need to start getting ready to go on watch… Can you see yourself out?"

"Yeah, of course, but are you sure you don't want me to hang around, just to make sure that…"

"Don't start hovering again, Rabb!" Beth warned him, but with a smile to take the sting out of her words.

"No, ma'am. I'll just find my way out, shall I?"

"Good call, Hammer!" Beth said approvingly.

**Monday, March 11****th****, 2002  
0243hrs EST  
Harmon Rabb's Apartment  
4****th**** Street NE  
Washington DC  
(110743ZMar 2002)**

Harm floundered from a full, deep sleep to consciousness, dragged to unwilling wakefulness by the imperative shrilling of the cordless phone on his nightstand. Blinking the sleep from his eyes as he switched on his bedside lamp he peered blearily at the digital clock.

"Oh… for fuck's sake!" he groaned, "If this is the office, I'm gonna…"

Whatever fate he might have had in mind for whichever member of the JAG staff that woke him up at quarter to three in the morning, he promptly discarded as he cleared his eyes sufficiently to read the caller ID on the phone. With a shock, as if someone had emptied a pail of iced-water over him, he snatched up the phone, "Beth?"

"Harm! I'm bleeding!"

Beth's anguished wail was enough to jerk Harm out of bed, "Okay… I'm on my way… Have you called for help?"

"Yes… I called… I called the base… they're sending help…Harm… I'm scared!"

"All right, sweetheart, I'm coming. Hold on for the EMTs. I'm coming, Beth I'm coming!" Harm repeated as with the phone jammed between head and shoulder he struggled into a pair of jogging bottoms.

"Hurry Harm… please! Hurry!"

"I'm on my way! I'm going to hang up on this phone now, Beth, but I'm going to call you on my cell! I'll be with you ASAP!"

Harm rammed his head and arms into a sweat shirt and then shrugged into his reefer as he picked up his car keys and cell phone from the side table just inside the apartment door, and was punching in Beth's number even as he took the stairs three at a time.

Harm could never remember the drive from his apartment to Andrews, but he vividly recalled talking to Beth, his cell phone now jammed against his ear, trying to reassure her and prevent her from panicking until at last she'd half gasped, half wept, "The medics are here… Harm, they're here! Oh, thank God!"

Harm heard a dull thud as Beth dropped the phone, and then as if hearing underwater, he could make out distance-dulled voices and a series of sounds that he thought might have been a gurney being rigged.

"Beth? Beth?" but his frantic shouts went unanswered, and then he heard what sounded like the slamming of a door, and praying that meant the medics had loaded Beth into an ambulance he changed his destination and headed straight for the Malcom Grow Medical centre on base.

**Monday, March 11****th****, 2002  
0419hrs EST  
Emergency Room  
National Naval Medical Centre  
Bethesda, MD  
(110919ZMar 2002)**

Harm almost ran into the ER at Bethesda. It had been a nightmare drive. He had arrived at the ER at the Malcolm Grow medical centre in almost record time for the journey from 4th Street NE to be told on inquiry that Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell had been transferred direct to Bethesda, where the OB/Gyn facilities were of a higher standard than the Grow centre could provide.

A harassed USAF nursing Captain had been able to take the time to explain that although Beth wasn't bleeding too heavily, she was being transfused and that the ER doctor had been unable to ascertain the cause and location of the bleed. In his judgement it would be quicker to transfer Beth to Bethesda, rather than call in a senior OB/Gyn resident to the Andrews medical facility.

Now, after a second nightmare drive during which he had broken, or at least severely dented, every speed limit en route, Harm had arrived at Bethesda and gasped his inquiry to the Lieutenant Commander Nurse at the ER desk.

"And you are?"

"Commander Harmon Rabb, JAG Corps," he replied fishing his wallet from his reefer jacket and showing his ID.

"Commander Rabb, did you say, sir?" A Corpsman Two asked from the other end of the desk, where she stood with a phone in her hand.

"Yes, why?" Harm snapped.

"It's just that I've been trying to reach you, sir." The young woman replied in an unruffled voice, "Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell has you down as her emergency contact, sir, ma'am," she added for the Lieutenant Commander's benefit.

Lieutenant Commander Horsley's suspicion dropped away at the news and with a brief smile, she turned to her computer and tapped a few keys. "Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell has been admitted to OB/Gyn and is on her way up there now. She's been seen by the ER Resident and is being transfused. OB/Gyn is on M deck, Commander. The elevators are at the end of the hallway. Good luck."

Harm nodded, grateful for the information, but still too tense to be able to relax, and with a somewhat brusque, "Thanks, Commander!" turned on his heel.

By the time the elevator arrived at M deck Harm was tapping his feet in frustration at the length of time it was taking – he would have been surprised had he learned that the elevators at Bethesda were just about the fastest that could be installed without hazarding patient health – and he burst out of the doors to find himself in a waiting area, lined with blue plastic chairs, none of which were currently occupied, and faced with the nurses' station behind which two peanut butter clad nurses – both Lieutenants – watched his eruption from elevator and his advance towards them with interest and with just perhaps a tinge of anxiety.

"Commander Rabb, JAG Corps," he introduced himself again, "I'm here for Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell, where is she?"

The taller of the two Lieutenants gave him what she hoped was a reassuring smile, And your connection with the Lieutenant, sir?"

"I'm her emergency contact!" he snapped out.

"Very well, sir. The Lieutenant is being examined now by Commander Narducci, so if you'd like to take a seat, I'll get her to come and tell you what's happening with the Lieutenant as soon as she can."

"Uh… You can't tell me anything more?" Harm asked, the disappointment obvious in his voice.

"Sorry, sir… I just don't know anything else right now…" Lieutenant Helen Tiner looked sympathetically at the tall JAG officer… JAG Officer. Of course! That's why his name sounded so familiar. Her brother worked at JAG… oh not for the Commander, but he was always full of stories, tall stories most of 'em she reckoned, about the Commander and his partner… but wasn't his partner supposed to be a Marine?

"Is there something wrong, Lieutenant?" Harm asked, slightly unnerved and irritated by her stare.

"Oh… nothing, sir. I'm sorry… I was just wondering if you like a coffee… I was just about to get the two of us, a cup." She indicated her blonde companion, "It'll take a few minutes to get it from the ward kitchen, but it will be better than that cra… uh… than the coffee from the vending machine." She indicated the offending item of machinery that stood in one corner of the waiting room.

"Yes, thank you, Lieutenant." Harm said, and selecting one of the hard, uncomfortable chairs at random, he sat down to await with ever-increasing impatience the arrival of Commander Narducci.

The coffee the Lieutenant brought to him about five minutes later was surprisingly good, and Harm, despite his worries smiled as he took a sip, "Thank you, Lieutenant, this really hits the spot!"

"Well, it helps keep us awake on quiet nights," Helen Tiner quipped, "Not that we get many of those!"

And almost as if to prove her words the phone at the nurses' station interrupted the quietude, and the blonde Lieutenant instantly picked up. She listened intently to what was being said and nodded. "Incoming!" she called quietly to Helen Tiner, and immediately punched in the number for the stand-by OB/Gyn's pager.

"Excuse me, Commander," Lieutenant Tiner said and with a regretful look at her mug of coffee put it, and her friend's mug out of sight and turned expectantly to the elevator doors, which duly opened to allow a gurney pushed by two EMTs to wheel into the waiting area.

"Caucasian female, twenty eight years old, first pregnancy, second stage labour, eight centimetres dilated, water's broke, contractions of forty-five seconds, seven minutes apart, blood pressure one thirty two over eighty nine, thirty three resps per minute oxy sats down to seventy-nine per cent!"

"Right! Straight along to L and D then please!" the blonde snapped, and started punching in more pager numbers to assemble the birthing room team. While Lieutenant Tiner accompanied the gurney as is rattled along the hallway, her voice drifting back to Harm's ears, "Hi honey, how are you doing? My name's Helen… What's yours…"

Harm watched in bemusement as the hitherto quiet OB/Gyn floor erupted into a burst of activity as scrubs clad personnel suddenly swarmed all over the area, but as quickly as they had appeared they vanished, leaving him alone with blonde Lieutenant.

Harm sat back and closed his tired eyes, although he knew he wouldn't be able to sleep, but he did drowse for a couple of minutes until the arrival of the worried husband of the recently admitted woman arrived. The two Lieutenants had obviously been expecting him and Tiner, having handed the patient over to the delivery team, thrust a set of scrubs at him and directed him to the men's room where he could change saying, "Once you've changed, I'll help you get scrubbed up, and then you can join your wife for the birth!"

Harm shifted irritably, hospital chairs he decided, had never been designed for the human body to rest in, certainly not for extended periods, and he looked at his watch to confirm his suspicions, nearly zero seven hundred hours… and still no word of Beth. The two nurses had been sympathetic to his concerns, but could tell him no more than that the doctor was still with Beth. They had tried to remain upbeat and to reassure him, but had betrayed their own concern when they looked at each other while they thought he wasn't looking.

Harm had had enough. He hauled himself to his feet just as the cleaning crew arrived and under cover of the upheaval of their arrival, he made his way over the desk. "It's not looking good, is it?" he challenged the two Lieutenants.

"The doctor is still with her, sir. So that's actually a good sign," the blonde Lieutenant replied.

Harm drew a deep breath, "Look… the Lieutenant's parents live in Florida, and her in-laws live in South Dakota… given the likely delays in them arriving here if they're needed, should I call them now?"

The two Lieutenants exchanged a further worried glance and the blonde said, "Ill check with Doctor Narducci," and with a brief smile she was gone.

Harm looked at his watch again and realised that there was no way he was going to be reporting for duty this so he turned to the dark-haired nurse and asked, "Is there a phone I can use? I need to tell the Admiral that I won't be in until I've got something concrete."

"Certainly sir, of course. Dial nine, three zero three, seven three seven three, that will get you the JAG switchboard from here."

"Yes, Lieutenant, I know that, but thanks…" the as the significance of what she had said penetrated his consciousness, he paused with his hand posed above the instrument, "but how do you know?"

The Lieutenant gave a slight shrug, "My brother's the Admiral's Yeoman, sir." She said.

Harm blinked in total confusion, "Your brother is Jason Tiner?" he asked in disbelief.

"Yes, sir, I know… incredible isn't it?" she smiled again.

Harm shook his head and returned his attention to the phone, punched in the number and listened to it ring at the other end, once, twice, three times.., "Oh come on!" he muttered fiercely, and then at last…

"_JAG Headquarters, Gunnery Sergeant Walters speaking, sir_!"

"Gunny, this is Commander Rabb. Are Tiner or Gunny Galindez in yet?" That was dumb question, he told himself, if either Tiner or Galindez had been in the office they would have picked up.

"_Not yet sir."_

"Right, in that case, I need you to take an urgent message for the Admiral."

"_Yes, sir! Go ahead!"_

"Right… I shan't be in this morning, maybe not all day. I'm at Bethesda. Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell had an emergency last night and has been admitted to OB/Gyn. Tell the Admiral that she put put me down as her emergency contact and that I'll let the Admiral know as soon as I hear anything definite."

"_Got it, sir…and sir…"_

"Yes, Gunny?"

"_Tell the Lieutenant good luck from me, sir."_

"Thank you, Gunny, I will!" Harm said inexplicably moved by the hard-bitten Marine's concern for an officer, a naval officer, whom he barely knew. Blinking the moisture from his eyes he turned away from the nurses' station to find himself face to face with a tired-looking woman in green scrubs, her dark hair cut short and mostly concealed under a surgical cap.

"Commander Rabb?" she asked.

"Yes."

"Good morning, Commander. I'm Stephanie Narducci, Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell's attending. I think we need to talk; shall we sit down?"

Harm felt the room spin around him for a second or two and he leaned on the nurses' station for support.

Commander Narducci reached out steady him as he staggered and she saw his face drain if blood, "Oh… I'm sorry, Commander, that was a bit tactless of me," she said contritely. There's nothing much to worry about now. But I guess I'm a little tired, and not thinking clearly. Come on, let's grab a seat, I need one, even if you don't," she smiled.

Harm could barely restrain his impatience, "Well? he demanded, even before they had sat properly.

Commander Narducci gave a short sigh, "Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell is very fortunate. She has a condition called placenta previa which was the cause of the bleeding. Fortunately she panicked and called for help as soon as she realised she was bleeding. However, despite the transfusion that was initiated at Malcolm Grow, she's lost a fair amount of blood, and we're continuing to replace that. We've stopped the bleeding or the moment…"

"For the moment?" Harm interrupted anxiously.

"Yes, for the moment, and hopefully permanently, but we won't know that until she delivers…."

"So the baby's okay?"

"Yes, the baby's fine. A good strong foetal heartbeat and there are no untoward signs of foetal distress."

"Oh, thank God," Ham murmured.

"Relax Commander," Stephanie Narducci grinned, "You're still going to be a daddy!"

Harm shook his head, "No, I'm not. And it's Harm. No, Beth's baby is posthumous. The father was killed at the Pentagon on nine-eleven. They hadn't been married very long, and if Beth would have lost the baby… I don' know what it would have done to her."

"Well, that's no longer an immediate danger, but I am going to admit the Lieutenant for at least forty-eight hours for observation and to start her on bed-rest and a course of corticosteroids. Now, she's in her thirtieth week, I wouldn't want to see her deliver before her thirty-fifth week at the very earliest. The drugs and the bed-rest should help with that, but it's very probably that if there's a recurrence, then I'll have to deliver by C-section."

"But… but if it's too early?" Harm asked.

"Any pre-term birth carries a risk to the baby, but the longer the baby is in the womb, then the better off both mother and baby are. The limit of viability is reckoned at twenty-four weeks from impregnation, and that generally works out to be about week twenty-two onward, but even that early with modern Neo-Natal Intensive Care there is a high chance of survival, although there may be later developmental problems. And the best way of averting any further risk is for Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell to be restricted to bed-rest."

"She'll hate that…" Harm mused out loud.

"She probably will," Commander Barducci agreed, "but if she's anything like most moms to be, she'll do as she's told for the health of her baby."

"She will that!" Harm agreed, "Even if I have to tie her to her bed!"

"Well, I hope that won't be necessary!" Narducci chuckled at the mental image.

Harm allowed himself a brief smile, "Can I see her?" he asked.

"You care for her, very much, don't you, Commander?" Narducci asked sympathetically.

"She was my RIO, when we flew together," Harm said simply.

Narducci wasn't buying that, not for one minute, but figured it wasn't worth arguing about at the moment, "All right, you can go in and see her, room M-104, down the hall to your right. You can have five minutes. She's very tired, so she might be asleep. If so, don't wake her. I'll be sure to have her told that you were here."

"That won't be necessary, Doctor," Harm said as he stood. "I won't be leaving until I've spoken with her."

Commander Narducci looked at Harm and saw the determination is his eyes, "H'mm… Okay then, just don't get in the way of the nurses. You can have five minutes every hour, on the half-hour until visiting times, and then you can have a normal visit, and then you will go home and have a shower and shave, and make yourself look presentable. Capisce?"

"Got it, Doctor, and thank you!"

"You're welcome, and it's Steph, Harm."

Harm had half been expecting to see what he saw when one of the day shift nurses, a Lieutenant (jg) walked him along to Beth's room. The IV transfusion was still in place, and she was hooked up to a couple of monitors, one for her and one for her baby. Even so, it was a still a bit of a shock to see her lying there, her face looking gray against the white linen of the sheets, but it was also a relief to see her eyes slowly open as he sat in the chair next to her bed. "Hey, Skates," he said softly as he took her hand in his.

"Hi, Hammer… guess I really screwed the pooch on this, huh?" she murmured drowsily.

"No… no you didn't… the doc says you did everything right, you and the baby are going to be fine if you just carry on obeying orders."

"The baby's all right? The nurses said… but... But you wouldn't lie to me, not 'bout that, would you?" she asked wearily.

"No… of course not, your baby's fine… Now… get some rest, sweetheart, I'll come back in an hour…"

"No… don' go…" Beth whispered as she slipped back into sleep.

Harm sat still for a couple of minutes longer until he was satisfied that Beth was properly asleep, and then gently disengaging his hand from hers, he silently stood and quit the room.

The nurse who came to tell him his five minutes were up found him standing in the hallway, staring out of the window with unseeing eyes and with a single tear rolling unheeded down his cheek, and she tactfully withdrew to the nurses' station on silent feet.

It was a much relieved Harm who returned to his seat in the waiting room and let his head loll back as he shut his eyes for a minute…

"Given up coming to attention for a senior officer, Rabb?" The Admiral's voice, loaded with amused irony jolted Harm out of his sleep and to his feet.

"Sir, No, sir!" he snapped as he froze into a brace.

"Relax, Harm, sit down," Chegwidden told him suiting his own actions to his words before he continued, "How is she, son?"

"Recovering, slowly but surely. She lost a lot of blood, but they're transfusing her, and given her a mild sedative until her BP is back up to normal and at the moment the baby's fine. Other than that, it looks like she's going to be on bed rest for the next six or seven weeks."

"H'mmm… here…" The Admiral offered Harm a brown paper bag, "Careful it might still be hot!" he cautioned the younger man.

Harm opened the bag and immediately saw a sealed Styrofoam cup bearing the logo of a well-known coffee shop chain, and a small bag wrapped around what seemed to be a bagel.

"What is it sir?" he asked.

"Don't be so suspicious Commander, I'm well aware of your eating habits; it's a cream cheese bagel! Although a jelly doughnut would probably be better for you right now," he added frankly, taking in Harm's exhausted condition.

"I'll pass on that, thanks sir! This is much more to my taste!"

The Admiral let his breath out in a puff, he knew his officer and knew exactly what the younger man was thinking and decided to make a pre-emptive strike, "Commander, I can get by without you for a couple of days, but now with Lieutenant Roberts shipping out, if Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell is going to be on bed rest until her due date, you're going to have to make some alternative arrangements! I can't afford to let you go for that length of time."

"Admiral, sir, not only do I have sixty days on the books, but I could also ask for emergency leave…."

"Commander, leave is a privilege, not a right, and yes, you could ask for emergency leave, but I'd have to refuse it. You may be Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell's emergency contact, but you are not family." Chegwidden said gently.

Harm's shoulders sagged, "No, sir," he was forced to agree.

Chegwidden was unaccountably moved by Harm's surrender, and clapped him encouragingly on the shoulder, "We'll work something out, son!"

"Yes, sir…" Harm drew a breath and stood up, "Thank you for the breakfast Admiral… but if you'll excuse me, I need to make a couple of 'phone calls, sir…"

Chegwidden watched Harm walk away, all the bounce vanished from the younger man's stride, "Damn it, Rabb, I told you not to get too damn' close!" he muttered.

Harm took the elevator down to the entry lobby so that he could step outside the building to use his cell phone. He could have used one of the pay-phones in OB/Gyn, but he felt as if he really needed some physical separation between him and his CO right now. Once in the chill morning air, he changed direction and headed for his SUV. These were going to be uncomfortable calls, well, one of them was, so he might as well make them in some sort of physical comfort. He tapped in the number and waited.

"_Hawkes_."

"Mister Hawkes, good morning, this is Commander Rabb."

"_Harm, how are you? What has you calling us on such a fine morning_?" John Hawkes voice was genial and relaxed, but then he seemed to make a connection as to why Harm might be calling and before Harm could answer, he spoke again, "_What is it? Is there something wrong ? Has something happened to Beth?_"

"I'm afraid something has happened, Mister Hawkes. Beth's all right for now, but she had some bleeding, and she's in the Naval hospital at Bethesda. At the moment the doctors are thinking of keeping her for a couple of days for observation, but the probability is that she'll have to be put on bed-rest until the baby arrives. That means she'll need someone with her full time. I'd be more than willing but my CO can't let me have six or seven weeks to look after Beth when she's not officially family…"

"_Thank you for that, Harm. But don't worry about looking after Beth; Her mom and I will be on the next flight to DC…._"

"Okay… call me with your flight details and I'll pick you up at the airport."

"_There's no need for that, son_."

"Uh… yes, there is. It will save you the cost of a rental, and I know you haven't seen Beth's new place and you probably won't be able to find it without me…"

Once Harm and John Hawkes had said their goodbyes, Harm broke the connection and for a moment contemplated calling Jason's parents. But decided that it would be too much hassle going through the operator to find their number, particularly given that he wasn't sure of their precise address, and then a moment's thought convinced him that it would be better to get Beth's okay before he did so, and returned to M Deck in a much better frame of mind.

It was halfway through Harm's next five minute bedside stint that his cell phone went off. Wincing he hurriedly pulled it from his pocket and was about to turn it off, when he saw from the user ID that it was Beth's parents' number. Hurriedly switching it on he spoke rapidly, listened intently and completed the call before he was caught by any of the nursing staff. With a deep sigh of relief he put the phone away and looked up to find Beth staring at him with accusing eyes.

"Was that my folks?" she demanded.

"Yeah… Um… I… uh…"

"You told them I was in here?" she accused him.

"Yeah… I… you see… the Admiral won't let me have the time off to look after you… and I figured that unless you want to stay put in here…?"

"No! No I don't! But…."

"But nothing. The doc has said that you'll likely be kept on full bed-rest. So you'll need someone with you twenty-four seven… So, they're flying into Leesburg, ETA fifteen thirty hours. Your uncle Elwas is flying them up!"

"Harmon Rabb, I hate you!" Beth pouted.

"Yes, of course you do! Now… did Harriet mention that she's still got AJ's old crib and bassinet? I was thinking that I could get round to her place, throw them into the trunk of the Lexus and get them set up in the nursery for you…"

"Oooh!" Beth ground out in frustration.

Harm eyed her sympathetically, "Okay… but Beth, none of this is what we would have chosen is it?"

"No… of course not," Beth agreed.

"So we have to play the cards we're dealt. And besides, you really wouldn't want me with you twenty-four seven, hovering over you, bugging you all the time…" he added with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

Beth saw the hidden smile and shuddered theatrically, "God, no!"

"See, it won't be too bad. I can switch out with your folks and that will give you the chance to vent about me to them and…"

"Vice versa!" Beth interrupted triumphantly. "That is what you were about to say, wasn't it?"

"Just about," Harm admitted, but then sobered, "Beth, just one more thing…."

She eyed him narrowly; "Go on," she invited him with a look of resignation.

"Jason's folks… do you want them told…?"

Beth thought for a moment and then slumped back against the pillows, "Yeah, I guess they better be told, after all…" she laid her hand on her swollen belly, "My little passenger is their grandchild too… but it might be better if I called them, and not you…. I don't want them hovering over me too, and I might be more tactful in persuading them not to come, and they do have a ranch to run."

Harm looked askance at her, "More tactful? You? The girl who told me she had to beat up on her brothers and sisters just to make sure she got fed!"

"I did no such thing!" Beth laughingly protested, "You're taking what I told you completely out of context."

"Yeah… riiiight…." Harm grinned.

"Ooooh! Don't make me laugh!" Beth warned him.

"Crap, no! I'm sorry, are you all right, shall I call a nurse?" he blanched and his hand shot towards the bell-cord.

"No… nothing to get alarmed about, but I do need an orderly… laughing makes me want to pee… so if you could find an orderly, and a phone trolley?"

"On it!" Harm replied almost springing to his feet.

The orderly was quickly found by dint of passing the message on to the nurse at the nurse's station. The phone trolley however took a little finding, and then a wait while the tearfully ecstatic new mom who was using it told her deployed husband that he was now a daddy. So by the time Harm wheeled it into Beth's room he found she was no longer alone.

He recognised Commander Narducci, now clad in peanut butters under a white lab coat but although the second female officer in service dress was vaguely familiar it took the sight of the gold winmgs above her ribbons that gave him the clue.

"Hi, Doc," he greeted Commander Narducci fairly casually, but then turned towards the second officer, "Commander Jackson, long time no see…"

Betty Jackson narrowed her eyes, she had the feeling that she recognised the patently unshaven man in jogging bottoms and a sweat shirt, but…

Beth recognised her OIC's temporary confusion, "Ma'am, this is my very good friend, and my former driver, Commander Harmon Rabb. Harm, Commander Betty Jackson, my watch commander."

"Of course!" Betty Jackson agreed, "Sorry, Commander, I didn't recognise you out of uniform."

"Yeah, and you could do with a bit of a clean-up, Harm," Beth grinned up at him.

"Are you suggesting I stink, Lieutenant?" Harm demanded in an affronted tone.

"No, sir, of course not. I would never suggest that, sir. I'm just stating a fact… sir!"

Stephanie Narducci smiled, Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell's better humour was an indication that she was beginning to feel better and was a definitely encouraging sign, but, "Play nice, children, or I'll take your toys away," she threatened and was rewarded by a round of gins.

"Now," she continued, perching on the edge of the bed. "We've had the results of the blood work back up from the lab, and there is no infection showing, so that's one fear put to bed. However, the ultra sounds show that it is placenta previa, so you young lady, are going to have to be very, very careful for the next six weeks at least. We'll continue with the medication and that should avert any tendency to pre-term labour. But you are going to have to help the meds by staying in bed. Now… we can let you go home if you undertake to obey my orders and stay in bed twenty-four seven. Sorry," she added when she saw Beth's crestfallen expression, "And if you have someone with you at all times. You can have bathroom privileges, but that's it."

"My parents are flying in today," Beth said, "and I just know he…" she glared at Harm, "is going to rat me out and tell them exactly what you've just said. In fact he's already told me he's going to stand watch and watch with them!"

"Good! That's what I wanted to hear," Narducci smiled.

"And I'll be keeping an over watch too, Beth!" Betty Jackson interjected.

Beth slumped back on her pillows and rolled her eyes, "I'm doomed…" she muttered hopelessly, but her only reward was a trio of broad grins as her visitors all nodded their heads in confirmation.

"As I was saying, that was what I needed to hear! However, I want to keep you in until tomorrow at least, just so we can continue our observations, but if all goes well, you'll be back home – in bed – tomorrow afternoon!"

"Thanks, ma'am," Beth replied, grateful to at least have some sort of time frame.

"Okay, but there are two more points for you to take on board. Firstly at the very sign of any discomfort, contractions, or bleeding you are to get your ass back in here by the fastest possible means. Capisce?"

"Aye, aye, ma'am!"

"I'll make sure of that!" Harm concurred.

Narducci allowed herself a brief smile. "Good. The thing is, I want to try and get you to thirty-seven weeks, but if we have to deliver prior to that we will. And you need to make up your mind, that when you are delivered, it will be by C-section." She saw Beth's troubled expression, "Believe me Lieutenant, that route poses the least risk to both you and your baby!"

Harm surreptitiously rubbed a hand over his chin and grimaced at the feel of the stubble on his face and then made a show of looking at his watch, "I guess if I need to clean up, I'd best get going if I'm going to meet your mom and dad, Beth. Doc, Commander Jackson, I'll catch you both later…"

Farewells made, Harm left the hospital with an easier mind having heard Commander Narducci's prognosis. He wasn't so naïve as to expect a trouble free run in. Beth might be willing to comply with medical orders, but he was damn' sure that she was going to complain long and vigorously about them, and having seen how much of a benevolent domestic despot Deniz Hawkes was he was under no illusions as to who was likely to suffer the most ear damage.

**Monday, March 11****th****, 2002  
1627hrs EST  
OB/Gyn Department  
National Naval Medical Centre  
Bethesda, MD  
(112127ZMar 2002)**

It was late afternoon by the time Harm returned to Beth's room, her mom and dad in tow, and stood back to give the anxious parents a few minutes alone with their daughter. When he did finally knock on the door and was bidden to come in, he found John Hawkes perched on the edge of the bed, pretty much in the same spot earlier occupied by Doctor Narducci, and Deniz sat in the blue, plastic bedside chair, he hand gripping Beth's, her relived smile twisting the tear tracks on her face out of alignment.

John Hawkes turned at the sound of Harm's knock and stood, holding out his hand, "Commander, I knew through Deniz that you were keeping an eye on our little girl, but until I just spoke with her, and reading between the lines, I never realised just how much you've done for her since that terrible day. Thank you, Commander, thank you from Deniz and I, from the bottom of our hearts."

Harm took the offerd hand in a form grasp but shook his had, "I didn't do anything out of the ordinary, Mister Hawkes. Beth was my RIO, and we bonded, tight bonded, during that time. Who else should she turn to when she needed help, and all I really did was let her sleep on my couch until she could make other arrangements."

"Twice!" Deniz interrupted firmly, standing and drawing herself up to her full height as she began scolding Harm, "And looked after her, made sure she ate right, cooked her meals for her, did her chores for her, Ran her errands for her, helped her to find her own apartment."

"Mrs Hawkes, please, you're making far too much of what I did. If Beth had had any more friends in DC, then I'm sure they would have done just as much!"

"You are, are you? Well I'm not…" Deniz Hawkes started on her rebuttal only to be interrupted by her daughter.

"Mom! Please! You're making Harm uncomfortable!"

"H'mph! Very well, I'll say no more than just one more thank you!" she nodded in Harm's direction, her smile reappearing, "But I shall continue thinking what I think!" she ended, determined to have the last word.

Harm had to smile, in so many ways Beth's mom reminded him of his own grandmother, so "Yes, ma'am," he agreed.

Harm propped himself against the window ledge, his thumbs hooked into his belt, while Beth's parents took their chosen seats again and John Hawkes cleared his throat. "Here's the thing, Commander, we feel we're already sinking under a debt of gratitude to you, but we're very much afraid that we're going to have to impose gain. I can't stay for more than forty-eight hours, I have a business to run. Deniz can stay, and has told me she _is_ going to stay until Beth is brought in for the birth, but she can't provide unremitting twenty-four care, not unless she wants to get sick as well, so we were wondering if…"

"Not a problem, Muster Hawkes. I'll quite happily share the job. But I am liable to be called out of town on investigations, most of which are over in a couple of days, but might last longer. Other than that I work pretty much eight to five Monday through Friday, and I'm more than happy to spend the evenings and weekends with Beth. And…" he paused as an idea struck him, "I have just thought of someone who might be willing to stand in for me when I am out of town…" he added thoughtfully.

Beth's eyebrows rose, "Who?" she demanded, "and don't forget, I have to approve of them too!"

"Harriet Sims," Harm replied, "Not only is she another woman, but she's got little A J, so she's got recent experience of pregnancy, and now with Bud deployed, it would probably be good therapy for her, I know she's going to miss him like he… uh… like heck!" he finished with a guilty glance at Deniz Hawkes, who gazed back at him with an unruffled smile.

"And who is this Harriet Sims?" she asked pleasantly.

"She works with Harm, Mom, and she's been very good to me already. She's handed on some beautiful baby clothes, and she's donating a crib and a bassinet too. Harm, she's done so much already that you can't ask her to…"

Harm grinned, "I won't have to ask her. The minute I walk back into the bull pen, she's going to want to know here I've been for the last two days, and the second I tell her, she'll be on your doorstep, and probably carrying a thermos of chicken soup!"

"Well just don't tell her! With all she's got going on…"

"Not tell her?" Harm asked incredulously with a broad grin plastered across his face. "You don't know what you're talking about! That woman's interrogation skills would have a battle-hardened Seal telling everything he knows within minutes!"


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

**Wednesday, March 13****th****, 2002  
1831hrs EST  
Beth Hawks-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(132331ZMar02)**

Harm allowed himself a quiet chuckle as he pulled the Lexus in behind the Roberts' mini-van. In the interest of obtaining a degree of peace and quiet, and, he admitted to himself, in the hope of enlisting Harriet's help, he had, within seconds, folded under her interrogation, and had told her of Beth's emergency and her current situation. Harriet had drawn herself to her full height, "In that case, sir, she'll definitely need another woman around! I know you'll do your best, sir. But there will be times when only another woman's company will do!" she had declared stoutly, the light of battle in her eyes. So Harm wasn't surprised to see her car outside Beth's apartment, although he hadn't quite expected to see her in Upper Marlboro quite so soon.

Still, he thought as he wrestled the box out of the Lexus' trunk her being here would help this evening as he could probably cajole her into helping with dinner while he wired up the flat-screen TV in Beth's bedroom. By the end of yesterday evening the petite brunette had let him know in no uncertain terms just how dissatisfied she was with her current situation, her major complaint being of boredom, and she couldn't just read for all the hours she was awake.

So with strict instructions about what was needed and to return with the receipt, Harm had been tasked with finding and buying on Beth's behalf a flat-screen TV that wasn't too big for the bedroom. Harm figured the twenty-one inch screen would be about the right size, and had relied heavily on the young, keen, techno-savvy sales clerk to guide him in his purchase.

So with his arms full Harm managed to use an elbow to knock on the door and thankful that flat-screen TVs were a fraction of the weight of the older CRT sets waited for someone to answer the door, which Deniz Hawkes did in under a minute.

"Come on in, Harm," she smiled, "You are most welcome, and if that…" she indicated the box, "is what I hope it is then you are doubly welcome!"

"She's been a difficult patient, has she?" Harm grinned, knowing full well that it was going to take more than just twenty-four hours for Beth to become reconciled to her fate.

"Difficult? No… I wouldn't say that…" Deniz Hawkes said judiciously, "No, not difficult… damned impossible!" she ended with a rueful chuckle, and then continued, "Thank God that blonde girl showed up when she did, she's upstairs with Elizabeth now, so that's allowed me to get on with preparing dinner. Oh, don't worry, Beth told me you were vegetarian," she called out over her shoulder as she headed back towards the kitchen, muttering, just loudly enough for Harm to hear, "Weird…"

Harm climbed the stairs and pausing in the hallway just outside Beth's room, called out "Man on deck!"

"Come on in, Hammer – we're decent!" Beth called out, and Harm could hear Harriet's giggle. Cautiously, still not sure of what to expect, he opened the door to find Beth laying back against her pillows, her comforter drawn up over her swollen stomach, her hair freshly brushed so that it shone like a raven's wing, and with the colour back in her cheeks, looking much, much better than she had forty-eight or even twenty-four hours ago.

However, he had no time to take in further details as a joyous cry of "Unca Harm!" assailed his ears and a blond-haired hurricane slammed into his legs, causing him to stagger slightly and almost drop the box he was still holding.

Harriet loved the way AJ related to his Godfather, but his actions on this occasion as he sent the tall officer staggering were too much! "AJ Roberts! That is not the way to greet people! Now go back to your chair and read your book!"

For a moment the toddler stood frowning at his mother from under his brows while his lower lip jutted in a pout, "I was just sayin' h'lo to Unca Harm…"

"AJ Roberts! Don't you dare argue with me! Now back to your chair and read your book. Or I can take the book away and you can stay quiet and sit on your hands! Which is it going to be? Now apologise to your Uncle Harm!"

AJ debated for a moment whether or not his mother's threats were serious and whether or not he could risk disobeying her, but a second look at her narrowing eyes convinced him that on this occasion mom wasn't kidding. "Yes, ma'am," he gulped and then looked up at Harm, "Sorry, Unca Harm."

Harm put the carton down on the floor and squatted down to bring his eyes level with the little boy, "Apology accepted, sailor, but I think you'd better do what Lieutenant Mom says, and sit back down, don't you?"

AJ giggled at the new name Harm had just coined for his mom and stood straight in as near a pose as he could to attention, "Aye, aye, sir!" and retreated to the basket work chair cum laundry hamper that stood in the far corner of the room.

Harriet watched AJ scramble back into his seat and then turned a quizzical eye on Harm, "Lieutenant Mom?" she asked in tones of disbelief.

"Hey it worked, didn't it?" Harm grinned easily, as he crossed towards the bed, perched on the edge, "How you doing, Skates?"

Beth who had a smile on her face as she watched Harm interact with AJ scowled, "I am going out of my skull with boredom! Thank God for Harriet and AJ, at least they're fresh faces _and_ they don't try to smother me!"

"Mom a bit too much? He asked sympathetically.

"Only if you classify the sun as 'warm' or the ocean as 'damp'!" But even so, she's not as bad as someone I could mention!" she added teasingly, looking sideways at him from under her lashes.

"Well, you tell me who that is, and I'll make sure they don't come a-bugging you again!" Harm smiled, refusing to rise to the bait.

"Oh, don't worry about that, I've already squared him away!" Beth chuckled.

"Good to hear!" Harm nodded, "Now, where do you want this TV?"

Beth looked around, "The outlet and the cable connection are behind the vanity, but I don't want it on that… perhaps if you swapped the vanity 'round with the chest of drawers?" she suggested.

Harm sighed. Both pieces of furniture were solid walnut. The vanity wouldn't be too heavy, but the chest, without another strong pair of arms to help him would be more of a challenge. Oh, he could move it, once he'd removed the drawers, but he had a sneaky feeling that his back was going to exact a horrible vengeance! So with a silent sigh, he stripped off his jacket and rolled up his sleeves, and for lack of a better place he laid the various feminine… things… from the top of the vanity onto the foot of Beth's bed.

"Mommy… wanna help Unca Harm…" AJ piped up from the safety of his chair. He wasn't about to risk moving from it in the face of his mother's possible anger.

Harriet's eyes flicked to Harm's face, as he smiled and gave her a slight nod.

"All right AJ, but only with the little things, okay?"

"Okay, Mommy," the youngster replied, and squirming around in his chair he lowered himself cautiously feet first and backwards to the floor.

Whether or not AJ's help was worthwhile would always remain a moot point on the minds of the three adults but it did keep him occupied for a while as he squatted staring intently as Harm installed the connections for the cable service and finally plugged in and tuned the TV. But what wasn't moot was Beth's unvoiced opinion that one day Harmon Rabb was going to make a great father. An opinion at which she arrived as she watched the aviator turned attorney tactfully and patiently handle the small boy's attempts at 'helping' and the patience with which he answered the youngster's non-stop flow of questions.

At last as he stepped back from the television and placed the remote control on Beth's nightstand, he grinned and said, "And there's more!" He dipped his hand into his jacket pocket and proudly displayed two small electronic devices.

Beth looked at them and then as suspicion dawned in her mind she demanded, "Are those baby monitors?"

"Yep! Sure are." Harm caught the beginnings of a scowl on Beth's face and quickly explained, "They were something you were going to need anyway, and by getting them now, you can keep the transmitter with you, right next to the phone on your nightstand, while whoever's in the house can get on with whatever they've got do and leave you alone unless and until you want some company. So you won't have anyone hovering over you and bugging you unnecessarily."

Beth's scowl relaxed into a smile, "See, the boy can learn!" she said to Harriet in tones of immense satisfaction.

Harriet giggled and cast a guilty look at Harm, "So it seems!" she agreed.

"Hey, since when did this become pick on Harm day?" he demanded, pretending to be hurt.

"Oh… just about as soon as you called Harriet 'Lieutenant Mom!" Beth chuckled.

"Dam… uh… Darn straight!" Harriet agreed with a second guilty look, this time at AJ who had latched onto the now empty TV cardboard carton and seemed to be driving it as if it were a car.

"That a Corvette, little guy?" Harm asked as his eyes followed the direction of Harriet's gaze,

AJ stopped making engine noises and looked up sadly at his idol, "No… he explained patiently, it's a Topcat!"

Beth looked at Harriet and grinned, "Looks like you'd best book his place at the academy and Pensacola!"

"Make that two places," Harm smiled and nodded towards Beth, "You don't think your little passenger is going to be happy just being a passenger all his or her life, do you?"

Beth chuckled, "Probably not!" she agreed as she smiled back at Harm.

Harriet's eyes grew round and her mouth dropped open as she looked at the pair who for all they cared might have been in the middle of Dupont Circle, 'Oh my God! They're in love! And Commander Oblivious hasn't realised it yet – and she's just as bad as he is!'

Fortunately for her peace of mind, she covered her confusion by swooping on her protesting son and scooping him up, smiled at Beth, "I'm sorry to run away and leave you to the Commander's tender mercies, but I need to be getting back and getting this one to bed!"

"I'm not tired Mommy!" AJ protested from the cradle of Harriet's arms.

"Yes you are!" Harriet told him firmly.

**Thursday, March 14****th****, 2002  
0931hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(141431ZMar02)**

"Thank you people, that will be all!" Admiral Chegwidden growled and rose to his feet. His assembled staff following suit and coming to attention as he left the conference room. Harm looked ruefully at the three new cases he'd been handed, and shuffled them into a neat stack before bending to pick up his briefcase from the floor next to his chair.

"Harm… Commander… Could you stay for a moment? Please?"

Harm straightened up, surprise written large on his face, "Yeah, what is it Ma… uh… Colonel…"

Mac waited until the remainder of the staff had quit the conference room, before she nervously licked her lips and said, "Commander… I just wanted to say that the word is out that Lieutenant Hawkes isn't having an easy time, and could have lost her baby…"

"Yeah, and…?" Harm asked suspiciously.

"Um… well… would you mind, the next time you see her, telling her that I hope everything comes out right for her…" Mac said uncertainly.

Harm narrowed his eyes, "Why would you care? You don't even like her!"

"No I don't like her. I never have liked her, and I guess I never will like her, but… I wouldn't wish that… losing a baby… on her… on any woman, no matter how much I dislike her… remember how it was with Harriet, when she lost baby Sarah…?" Mac asked softly.

"Yeah… yeah, I remember," Harm replied equally softly. And he did, and he had marvelled at Harriet's courage in coming to help Beth when the scars of that horrible night were still comparatively fresh. He gave himself a mental shake, returning to the here and now and looked across the conference table at Mac. Clearing his throat he said, "Yeah, I'll tell her… and Mac… thank you."

Mac blinked back sudden tears. That was the first time Harm had addressed her as anything other than 'Colonel' since she had returned from the Guadalcanal. Ducking her head so that Harm wouldn't see the moisture in her eyes she busied herself packing her case files into her briefcase, and when she looked up, Harm had gone.

Harm walked back to his office, deep in thought. That was the first time in months that Mac had spoken to him about anything other than a point of duty, and for her to say what she had, had nearly knocked the wind right of his sails, but he couldn't help the cynical lift to one corner of his mouth. Maybe her anger management therapy was beginning to work after all.

Lieutenant Loren Singer trailed the Admiral back to his office and gave him two minutes to get settled at his desk before she approached Tiner.

"Would you check please, Tiner, and see if the Admiral can spare me five minutes?"

"One moment, ma'am," the Yeoman replied, barely managing to conceal his surprise. Lieutenant Singer wasn't the sort of officer that asked to see the Admiral as an everyday occurrence, 'in fact,' he reflected, 'she normally went out of her way to avoid attracting his attention.'

With a mental shrug he thumbed the call button on his intercom, "Lieutenant Singer to see you, sir."

There was a five second pause before the Admiral replied, "_Send her in_," he said with a hint of resignation in his voice.

Loren nodded at Tiner, "Thank you," and then turned and rapped twice on the doorjamb.

"Enter!"

Loren stepped through the doorway, quietly closing the door behind her and marched up to the desk, halting at attention. "Thank you for agreeing to see me, sir!"

"Well, now that you're here, Lieutenant, stand easy."

Loren assumed the position of parade rest and lowered her gaze to look at the Admiral.

"What can I do for you, Lieutenant?" Chegwidden asked, feeling incongruously unnerved by the light blue eyes locked on his.

"I would like to take a personal day, tomorrow, sir." Loren said.

Chegwidden sat back, relieve that this was a minor matter, and not something that looked like it might explodes in his face. "Why?" he asked mildly.

"The Patrick Henry's docking the day after tomorrow after a six month deployment, sir, and the squadrons are flying into to Andrews tomorrow… I… I want… I mean I would like… sir, there's somebody flying in who I'd like to welcome home, sir." Loren answered, acutely aware of the blush that risen to her cheeks, as her last words came in a rush.

Chegwidden managed to keep up an impassive front but behind his steepled fingers his brain was whirling. Loren Singer, who rigorously kept her private life separate from her professional life, was actually asking to take personal time, and was thinking about someone other than herself? Well, it seems that the age of miracles isn't over yet, and who was he to defy God's work?

He gave himself a slight shake and drew a breath, "Very well, permission granted, and we'll see you back here at zero eight hundred Monday."

He looked up when he got no response, top see the blonde Lieutenant staring open-mouthed at him, "Was there something else, Lieutenant? No? Then you're dismissed!"

Loren started, gulped, came to attention and replied "Aye, aye, sir!" and then just for a second, as she started to about face, Chegwidden caught a glimpse of a smile of pure delight that spread over her face, and once her back was safely turned he couldn't resist a smile of his own.

The smile didn't last long however. Minutes later his phone rang, and with a 'What now?' he put down his pen and reached for the handset.

"Yes, Tiner?" he grunted.

"_Sir, I have the SecNav on line one for you_."

"Put him through, Tiner," Chegwidden answered, passing his free hand front to back over his scalp.

"_A J_?"

"Yes, Mister Secretary?"

"_You're needed here, right now_."

"Yes, Mister Secretary." A J Paused, "It might help me bring any appropriate material if I knew what for, Mister Secretary."

"_This is an entirely new matter, and one that cannot be discussed over the phone. Just that you need to be here ten minutes ago_!"

"I'm on my way, Mister Secretary!"

Chegwidden sighed silently, he hated these mystery meetings with the SecNav, they were usually just an excuse to rant and rave about some minor matter over which Chegwidden had little or no knowledge and over which Chegwidden had no control and inevitably required him resorting to the emergency bottle of aspirin that he kept in his briefcase. Which reminded him, he needed to tell Tiner to organise a replenishment of that essential medication.

Grabbing his cover on his way out of the office, he paused at Tiner's desk, "Clear my calendar for the rest of the morning – no, on second thoughts, make that for the rest of the day. I shall be at DoN in a meeting with the SecNav."

"You had a meeting scheduled for fourteen hundred hours with the DCMC, sir. Should I try to reschedule?"

Chegwidden nodded, "Yes that one is important, do what you can, Tiner!"

"Aye, aye, Sir!"

Chegwidden nodded again and making his way around the edge of the bullpen heading for the elevator and his black Explorer he was halfway to the Pentagon and he suddenly slammed his fist against the steering wheel. "Damn! I forgot to tell Tiner about the aspirin!"

**Thursday, March 14****th****, 2002  
1126hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(141626ZMar02)**

Harm made his way to the break room, the thought of a fresh-brewed mug of coffee uppermost in his mind but once again to his annoyance he found that whoever had last visited the room had drained the coffee jug and hadn't bothered to start a fresh pot brewing.

He was still busy with filters and coffee on the door of the break room opened. Glancing over his shoulder and saw that Mac and Harriett and entered the room. Harm managed a smile for Harriet and a wary non-committal nod for Mac. "Needed to brew a fresh pot, ladies, shouldn't be long now," he noted as the machine's siphoning action began.

Three minutes later he slid a mug of milky, sweet coffee towards Harriet, and with a raised eyebrow looked at Mac, she had taken the first step, a baby step may be, but still the first step towards the restoration of normal relations between them, and he recognised that he needed to reciprocate if he wanted to restore normal relations. But no more than that, not anymore. "You still take yours black and sweet, Colonel… Mac?"

For a second there was silence in the break room is Harriet's eyes darted from one face to the other, Harm features wearing an expression of cautious inquiry, while Mac's eyes were open wide in surprise, but she made a creditable recovery, "Yes, still black and sweet, thank you… Harm."

Harriet raised her mug to her mouth in order to hide a surprised, but pleased smile she couldn't resist. Peace between the two senior officers may not have yet broken out, but it seemed that at long last an armistice had been reached.

**Thursday, March 14****th****, 2002  
1538hrs EST  
JAG Headquarters  
Falls Church, VA  
(142038ZMar02)**

Chegwidden's expression was thoughtful as he strode purposefully through the bull pen on his way back to his desk, waving off, as was his usual custom, the attempt of his staff to come to attention as the cry of "Admiral on deck!" rang out. He paused by Tiner's desk on his way and again, waving that young man to stay seated, h growled, "Next time you're anywhere near a store, Tiner, remember to pick up a bottle – no two bottles – of aspirin!"

"Two bottles of aspirin, sir! Aye!" Tiner paused and then asked cautiously, "A bad meeting with the SecNav, sir?"

"Are there ever any good ones?" Chegwidden asked rhetorically and with a marked edge to his voice, but then relaxed slightly, "No… as far as meetings go, this wasn't too bad… but I need to see Commanders Rabb and Turner, and the Colonel, ASAP, so pass the word!"

"Aye, aye, sir!"

Chegwidden didn't resent his Yeoman's questions. They were part of his role in helping to keep the office running smoothly Tiner had to know what sort of mood his chief was in so that he could either deflect, or admit members of staff asking to see him, so although he gathered an impressive amount of information from Chegwidden and the other officers, it was not just idle curiosity, although he did have a tendency to share choice bits of information with his cronies, particularly Seaman Liz Hawkins!

Five minutes later, from behind the barrier of his desk, Chegwidden regarded his three officers, raising a mental eyebrow as he saw that unlike previous occasions in the recent – try six months! – past, he thought savagely – Rabb and MacKenzie hadn't placed Turner between them, and there seemed to be a slight, but definite, easing of the tension between them. He allowed himself a brief, mental, smirk, maybe whatever hair they'd gotten up their sixes was beginning to work loose!

He shook his head at his own procrastination, "All right people. Stand easy, at ease. Firstly, nothing of what I am about to say is to be repeated outside this office!" he fixed each of his attorney in turn with a gimlet-like stare and waited for their knowledge.

"Aye, aye, sir!" the anticipated reply came as a perfectly synchronised chorus and Chegwidden allowed himself a wintery grin before he continued.

"This morning, the President authorised the convening of a military tribunal." Chegwidden crossed his arms and scanned the row of faces in front of him for their reactions, all three showed mild surprise, and not surprisingly, a lively curiosity. "The Tribunal is to be held aboard the _USS Seahawk_; the accused is a top al Quaeda leader named Mustapha Atef. Chegwidden closed the file from which he had been reading and took off his reading glasses, laying them to one side as he added, "As you know, there hasn't been a military tribunal on this country for over fifty years. Now, I recognise the fact that defending this man may be the hardest thing any of you have ever done; with that in mind I have decided to ask for a volunteer." The Admiral let his words hang, waiting for a response, but he wasn't at all surprised when no one spoke up.

Harm looked impassively at both Sturgis and Mac, both of whose faces were as shuttered as his own. Chegwidden picked up on the movement and remarked mildly, "It's a hell of a challenge, Commander."

Harm swallowed, "Well, sir, if it's the Admiral's wish, I will do my best."

Chegwidden raised his eyebrows slightly and said, still mildly, "I don't hear a volunteer in that. Colonel?" he made the honorific into a question.

"Um… like the Commander, I would do my best, sir."

Chegwidden sat back in his chair, and tugged the skirts of his jacket straight, "Well, I will not order this one; I'll defend him myself. Anyone for second chair?"

Again there was a taut silence for a few seconds until Sturgis Turner spoke up gravely, "Admiral, I would be privileged, if you would have me."

Chegwidden hesitated for no more than a moment before he nodded his head decisively, "Done! Commander, you and the Colonel will prosecute – if you think you can work together!"

Mac and Harm exchanged glances, no matter how they might feel about each other at the moment, this was too big a career boost to let petty jealousies and arguments to get in the way. "Yes, sir!"

"Good!" Chegwidden grunted. "Prepare to leave tonight! Dismissed!"

The three officers came to attention, and rapped out their "Aye, aye, sir!" in chorus before turning and filing out of the office.

"Harm…" Mac began as they made their way across the bull pen.

"Give me five minutes, Mac, and I'll come to your office, okay? I need to speak with Harriet first."

Mac nodded, "Okay… take whatever time you need, we've plenty of time before secure…"

Harm nodded, "Thanks…" and looked around, "Lieutenant Sims… a moment of your time, please…"

Harriet bustled across the bull pen, following Harm into his office, her bright smile fading as she saw the set lines of his face.

"Sir…?" she faltered.

"Take a seat Harriet… The admiral, Mac, Sturgis and I are all leaving town tonight for an indefinite period. Now, I know you'd be quite happy to step up into the gap and cover for my absence at Beth's. But. You. Are. Not. To. Do. That. Understood? You have far too much to deal with, looking after AJ, trying to keep this office and your home running, while Bud's away. I'm not saying stay away from Beth completely. I think she enjoyed your visit, and I'm pretty sure she was impressed by your parenting… Lieutenant Mom," he grinned, enjoying the sight of Harriet's confusion as the blood mounted to her cheeks.

"No, by all means go and see her a couple of times a week, if you can find the time, and maybe a phone call or two might help. But when I get back, if I find that you've been visiting with her every day and twice on Sundays, I shan't be best pleased with you. Capisce?"

"I'd be quite happy to…"

"I know you would, Harriet, and I'm more than just grateful for thought… but I don't want you wearing yourself out and losing your looks. Bud would kill me if I let that happen, you know!"

Harriet smiled in defeat, as Harm had known she would once he brought Bud's name into the conversation. "Okay, sir," she sighed, "I promise I'll restrict the frequency of my visits… but I might be able to enlist some help, though…"

"And who might that be?" Harm asked.

Harriet grinned broadly, "That, sir, is need to know. And until I make a couple of inquiries, you don't have that need!"

Harm grinned on his turn, "I should have known better than to lock horns with Lieutenant Mom!"

"Yes, you should!" Harriet affirmed and then narrowed her eyes, "And if I _ever_ hear that name in use in the bull pen… I…. I'll… get your mom to send me some of your most embarrassing baby pictures and post them on the break room fridge's door – sir!"

"Ouch! You'd do that too, wouldn't you?" Harm chuckled.

"Damn straight, I would sir…" Then the laughter left Harriet's face, "You don't know how long you'll be gone, but do you know where you're going? Will it be dangerous?"

"Yeah, I do know where we're going, Harriet, and no; I don't think it's dangerous. But I can't tell you any more than that. That really is need to know."

Harriet stood and smoothed the front of her skirt, "In that case, sir. If you'll excuse me, I need to say goodbye to the Colonel, too…" 'and to enlist the help of Carolyn Imes…'

"Of course, Harriet. Tell her I'll be along to talk tactics shortly…"

Harm watched Harriet leave the office and then with a sigh reached put his hand for the telephone. He still had to break the news to Beth.

In his office, Chegwidden stabbed irritably at the intercom call button.

"_Sir_?" Tiner's electronically distorted voice spilled from the speaker.

"Pass the word for Commander Imes!" Chegwidden said.

"_Aye, aye, sir_!" Tiner replied and Chegwidden sat back a slight grin on his face as he anticipated Carolyn Imes' reaction to being told that she was the JAG pro tem until he returned from… well… she'd have to know where he was, but she needed also to take on board that it was strictly need to know, and that she was to refrain from imparting her knowledge to anyone else.

**Friday, March 15****th,**** 2002  
0958hrs EST  
Flight Line  
Joint Air Facility  
Andrews AFB, MD  
(11458ZMar02)**

Loren Singer danced on her toes, her arms wrapped around her in an effort to keep out the chill, which despite her winter-weight panty-hose, jeans and heavy winter coat, threatened to seep marrow deep in her bones. Well, at least that was what she told herself as she waited impatiently, with the rest of the families for the Patrick Henry's air group pilots and aircrew to be released from duty.

She had watched the air group land – a seemingly never ending procession of airplanes that brought home to her the air power wielded by a Carrier Battle Group, first came the two CODs, followed by the four Viking ASW and SAR ships, then the USMC Squadron of twelve F/A-18s, then a Navy Squadron of the two-seater version of the same aircraft type, and the ones she had been waiting for, two squadrons of F-14 Tomcats.

She barely paid attention to the arrival of the four EA-6 Prowlers and the four E-2C Hawkeye, so consumed as she was with impatience, but at last the doors to the flight line building opened and disgorged a crowd of aircrew. As they crossed the parking lot towards the massed families the two moieties broke up as husbands and wives, families, boyfriends and girlfriends sought each other out. For a moment or two, amidst all the turmoil, Loren was unable to see the man she come to greet and then she saw him, his curly hair – just a shade too long by strict Navy standards curling out from under the brim of his cover, his sea bag thrown over his shoulder, and a smile on his face as he spotted her. They both quickened their pace until they were a couple of feet apart when he dropped his sea bag and held out his hands, "Hello Loren."

Loren smiled back and took his hands in hers, and equally coolly, she replied "Hello David." Then she was caught up in a ruthless hug, and her own arms went around his neck as she hugged him just as fiercely. "God, I've missed you!" he murmured into her ear.

"Me too!" Loren confessed into the leather of his flight jacket. And then sniffing back tears, she growled, "It's time you got your six into my car, Mister! I've got plans for you!"

**Tuesday March 26****th****, 2002  
1145hrs EST  
Flight Line  
Joint Air Facility  
Andrews AFB, MD  
(2616458ZMar02)**

Chegwidden settled back against the seat of the Navy Motor Pool Sedan that had been detailed to collect him from Andrews and bring him back to JAG. Although he raised his eyebrows at the fact that two cars had been sent, one for him and one for the other three officers, he was, despite the lack of economy on the part of whoever made the decision, grateful for the privacy. The last ten days had been tough, he had done his best to defend his client, but the man had condemned himself once he took the stand, spouting Islamic fundamentalist rhetoric, but as far as Chegwidden was concerned his crowning folly was when Atef exulted that all those who died on nine-eleven had deserved their fate.

Chegwidden shook his head, with a client like that he had hardly needed a prosecution team, although, apart from one not so minor hiccup, Rabb and MacKenzie had worked well. The bump in the road coming the day after MacKenzie had returned from a trip in-country to find corroborating evidence for Atef's identity, and had inadvertently been placed in danger by a breakdown in communication. She had ended up with a knife held to her throat and very nearly had her throat sliced, before the Afghani who held her were shot down by Gunny Galindez and his Marines and Webb. Of course Rabb had been furious when he heard of the incident and typically blamed Webb. MacKenzie hadn't helped by hotly repeating her mantra that she was a Marine and could look after herself, but that only increased Rabb's anger and for an hour or so, Chegwidden had feared that the next news he had of Webb would be that the CIA agent was in the _Seahawk'_s sick-quarters.

That was before Webb's carelessness had let Atef cut his wrists with a ball-point pen, and so cheat the executioner. At that point Chegwidden too had felt tempted to re-arrange Webb's features – again!

Still after that little bump in the road it appeared that Rabb and Mackenzie were finally beginning to get along together again, and for that small mercy, Chegwidden was exceedingly grateful.

**Tuesday, March 26****th****, 2002  
1807hrs EST  
Beth Hawkes-Mitchell's Apartment  
4241 Chariot Way  
Upper Marlboro, MD  
(182307ZMar02)**

An early secure had allowed Harm to miss the worst of the traffic on his way home and he'd managed a quick turn round, almost diving into his apartment to get rid of his travel crumpled service dress and to change into a sweater and jeans, before jumping back into the Lexus and heading for Upper Marlboro.

In the fading light, and as keen as he was to get indoors and see Beth, he failed to notice the blue Miata parked a few yards down the street. Although he grinned and shook his head resignedly at the sight of the minivan parked almost outside the door, wondering as he did so just how many times Harriet had visited with Beth while he'd been away.

The door opened to him to reveal Harriet, still in her uniform skirt, but in stocking feet, and without her jacket, her neck tab also gone and the top two buttons of her blouse undone.

"Welcome back, Commander!" she smiled, we saw you arrive, but by the time I'd said hello to Mac, you'd gone!"

"Ah, Harriet. Somehow I knew you'd be here, and I just couldn't wait to see you in such a state of deshabillé!" he teased her.

Harriet blushed, "Hush! Whatever would people think if they heard you!" she protested with a giggle. "Go on upstairs, I'm just making a pot of tea for all of us, Beth's mom has just gone to the stores, she won't be long, and then we'll eat when she gets back!"

Harm grinned, "Harriet you're a treasure, and if there's an extra cup in that pot, I'd be glad of it!" and headed across the hall to the stairs. He was half way up the stairs when his brain caught up with his ears, 'What did she mean by all of us?' he thought and then shrugged his shoulders. It would be quicker to go on and find out rather than go back and ask Harriet.

"Man on deck!" he called cheerfully as he approached Beth's room to be slightly surprised by the answer.

"Come on in, Hammer you're not the only one! Beth called out.

Harm grinned, thinking perhaps that she was setting him up and opened the door only to stop, stock still. True he wasn't the only male in the room. David Medwick was sat, with a sleeping little A J Roberts on his knee looking distinctly outnumbered by Beth, Cassie Puller… and Loren Singer.

Okay… Tuna and Lobo he could figure out a reason for them being here, they were after all Skates' squadron mates and friends, but Loren Singer? Then his eyes caught her with a rather uncharacteristic shy smile on her face as she looked at Tuna with little AJ, and a broad grin spread across his own face. His intel had been spot on! Good for Boomer! Well, well, well… the Ice Queen, in love? And she owed it all to him… after all it had been him that introduced them at Harriet's party. With anyone else the situation would have been ripe for some not so gentle teasing… but with Loren Singer's famed unpredictability… maybe discretion was the better part of valour… still it _was_ a source of blackmail material! If he was brave enough, or dumb enough, to ever try to use it.

Instantly dismissing dangerous thoughts from his mind he crossed to the bedside and knelt down alongside and smiling into Beth's eyes he asked, "How's my favourite mom to be?"

"Fat, heavy, awkward and oh… so very bored, and totally sick of having to stay in bed – the only good thing about the way I feel is that my feet have stopped aching and my ankles aren't so swollen – or so I'm told!"

"Totally bored? How can you be bored when you've got all these lovely people around? Harm asked with a smile.

The look he got from Beth in return was far from a smile. "These lovely people have stopped me going insane," she acknowledged, "But Harriet and Carolyn can only come after duty, and Cassie and David are supposed to be on leave… not much of leave for them if they keep coming to babysit me is it? While you," she added accusingly "have been going off enjoying yourself God knows where, doing God knows what!" But then she spoiled the effect of her rant by grinning in triumph as she figured she'd put on over on Harm.

Harm slid up onto the edge of the bed and unconsciously took one of Beth's hands in his as he shook his head slowly, "Trust me, Skates… there wasn't much enjoyment in what we had to do."

Beth frowned and bit her lip in concern, "Can you talk about it?" she asked.

Harm shook his head, "Not yet, perhaps not ever, but I suppose I could tell you that I had the opportunity to watch the Cougars in action on the Seahawk…" he paused drawing put his punch-line, "Now there's a crack Tomcat Squadron for you, could teach you Raptors a thing or two!"

Lobo and Beth howled their disapproval and outrage which meant that Tuna suddenly had his hands full with an abruptly woken and distinctly unhappy AJ, while Harm smiled beatifically.

As the howls of outrage died down, Lobo looked at Beth, "Can I take him outside and kill him now?" she asked.

Beth glared at Harm but then sighed and let her shoulders droop, "No, better not, someone might miss him!"

"Damn!" Lobo muttered, and then came back with "We can't, you're right; there's another shyster here to witness!"

"Yeah, and don't you forget it!" Loren grinned and then turning to David said, "Give him to me…"

A relieved Tuna handed AJ over to Loren, who took him up in his arms, and within less than a minute, the toddler's cries of outrage were stilled as Loren hummed an old German lullaby into his ear.

Harriet stood open mouthed in the doorway as she took in the scene. For Beth's sake she had been cautiously friendly, but still quite reserved around Loren Singer, but to see her with a contented AJ in her arms opened up another perspective on the acerbic blonde attorney.

Tea was poured and the conversation became general until Deniz Hawkes called for them all to come and eat their dinner, "I didn't spend my time slaving over a hot stove just to let it go cold!" she said as she bore a tray into the bedroom.

There was a chorus of "Yes, ma'ams" and everyone moved to the door, Loren handing AJ off to Harriet while Tuna and Lobo gathered up the now-empty mugs.

"Not you Harm, you are staying put and eating your dinner with Elizabeth!" she told him in no uncertain manner.

Harm and Beth looked at each other and shrugged. "Yes, ma'am, he repeated and taking the tray he handed one bowl to Beth and sitting in the basket weave chair, he took the other bowl for himself.

Deniz Hawkes headed for the stairs, well satisfied with herself.

**Tuesday, March 26****th****, 2002  
2241hrs EST  
Loren Singer's Apartment  
1054 Canal St NW  
Georgetown  
Washington DC  
(270341ZMar02)**

Loren stood looking out of the window on to the street as she waited for David to join her when he came out of the bathroom, leaning back against his warmth as he came up behind her, her hands resting gently on his as they covered her stomach, her head resting against the hollow if his shoulder.

"Ready for bed?" he asked as dropped a kiss onto her sweet-smelling hair.

"M'mm… in a minute…" she murmured, "David…?"

"Yeah?"

"Did you pick up any sort vibe between Beth and Commander Rabb?"

"Between Hammer and Skates?" he asked incredulously and then thought for a couple of seconds, and shook his head firmly, "Nope… you're imagining it…"

"Must be 'cos I'm so happy that I want everyone else to be," Loren smiled and then turned in his grasp, stretching up to kiss him, a serious, long-lasting kiss that held the promise of much more. When she broke the kiss, her eyes were dark and smoky, "Take me to bed!" she commanded hoarsely.

"Aye, aye, ma'am!

Later in the peaceful darkness of the bedroom, a pleasantly tired Loren turned on her side to watch a sleeping Tuna. She smiled fondly… 'No connection between Harm and Beth my ass!' she thought, and then giggled silently, 'Why were men so damned oblivious?!'

**Friday April 19****th****, 2002  
1708hrs EST  
OB/Gyn Department  
National Naval Medical Centre  
Bethesda, MD  
(192228ZApr02)**

The last month had been a succession of highs and lows for Beth and of course by extension Harm. as the pregnancy had entered its last few weeks it appeared that the effects of the medication were wearing off, resulting in several scares as it seemed that Beth was about to go into labour. Commander Narducci had taken to calling on the phone daily and looking in on her way home – although it took her miles off her direct route, to check on Beth's condition.

Today, however, Beth had felt instinctively that something was different about the pangs she started feeling in mid-afternoon and after first trying to tell herself that she was imagining things she eventually called Commander Narducci who had rushed out to Upper Marlboro, and immediately on seeing Beth had called for an ambulance.

As soon as the call for an ambulance had been made Deniz Hawkes, at Beth's tearful demand, had called Harm.

Harm had stuck his head into Mac's office, relations between them had thawed to such an extent that they were almost back to where they were before Harm retuned from flying, although there were still flashes of irritation and bad temper between the two, but Harm had made himself a promise not to push any of Mac's buttons while, her anger management therapy at last seemed to be paying off. Of course the lowered level of stress she was undergoing now that Alan Mattoni had been made Chief of Staff might have helped. But Alan Mattoni was in court this afternoon, so…

"Mac, Beth's doctor just called, she thinks that she can't wait any more, so…"

"Go, Harm go! And Harm…"

"Yeah?" He stopped and looked back over his shoulder.

"Tell her I said good luck will you?"

Harm nodded, his face serious, "Yeah, I will. I'll tell her that." And he was gone, leaving the bullpen door swinging behind him.

In the ambulance Commander Narducci was on the phone to the department, getting her team assembled ready for an immediate C-section as soon as Beth got to the hospital, and reassuring Beth, who was in pain and on the verge of panic.

"I want Harm!" Beth pushed the oxygen mask off her face and yelled,

"He's on his way, Beth," Stephanie Narducci soothed her patient. "He'll be at the hospital just as soon as we will, and your mom's following us in your car. Now put the mask back on and breathe deeply… that's a good girl…" she smiled down into Beth's wide open eyes as the petite brunette took huge gulps of oxygen.

Stephanie flicked her eyes to the monitor to which Beth was hooked up and saw heart rate decrease and oxygen saturation levels raise and smiled with satisfaction, not unmixed with relief, "That's it, good girl… smile for me Beth, you're going to be a mom before the day is through…."

"Too damn young to be a mom!" Beth panted through the mask with an attempt at a grin.

"Hey, how do you think your mom feels about becoming a Grandma?" Steph said in effort to keep the conversation light.

"Hell… she's already got fourteen grandkids… she's like the old woman who lived in a shoe…"

"I never did understand that story," Stephanie confessed. "I mean it stands to reason, if she had that many kids, she must have known what to do!"!

It took Beth a second to grasp Stephanie's joke, but she did get the point and started to grin, but just at that point her body was seized by another tremendous contraction.

"Aaaargh! Haaarm! Where's Harm!" she screamed.

"He'll be with us sweetie, he's probably waiting at the hospital already…" she cast a concerned look at the Corpsman EMT.

"Seven minutes, forty two seconds." He said succinctly.

"How much longer to base?" Narducci called through to the driver.

The blonde petty officer looked at her speedo and the way traffic was, thankfully, trying in response to the ambulance's lights and sirens to get out of her way. But this was Friday peak traffic hour on the Beltway, "Another three maybe four minutes ma'am!" she yelled back over her shoulder, not taking her eyes of the road for a split second.

"Good work!" Stephanie called out encouragingly. "Did you hear that Beth, another half hour and it will all be over and you'll be holding your beautiful baby!"

Beth gulped, "Doc… if you have… to choose…"

"No question of that, Beth! You just hold on and everything will be okay!"

"Aaargh!" Beth writhed on the gurney, "Easy for you to say!" she panted as the spasm passed.

Harm slammed on the brakes of the Lexus and barely remembered to grab the keys from the ignition as her ran into the hospital, attracting curious stares from staff, patients and visitors alike as he ignored salutes fired off at him and raced for the bank of elevators, also ignoring the requirement to salute a scandalised four ring Captain, whom he honestly didn't see.

Once again he cursed the slowness of the elevator as it ground up toward the M Deck and it was with a sense of relief that he felt it glide to a stop. Striding quickly up to the nurses' station he saw Beth's mother talking to a nurse he didn't recognise.

Gripping her urgently by the arm he demanded, "Where is she?"

The nurse intervened, "As I was just telling the Lieutenant's mother, she's been taken straight into the OR."

"OR?" Harm repeated blankly.

The nurse nodded, "She's gone straight in for a C-section, sir."

"But it's too early… the baby's not due for another month!" Harm protested.

The nurse consulted the on-screen notes, "She's in her thirty-sixth week, sir, the baby should be perfectly… perfect…" she gave what she hoped was a reassuring smile.

"I need to be with her!" Harm declared.

"Sorry sir, that's not going to happen, it's against hospital policy. Besides, sir, by the time we got you change and scrubbed in, it will all be over. Why don't you take a seat, and as soon as I hear anything I'll let you know." The young woman smiled sympathetically, but Harm knew that once she'd invoked hospital policy there was nothing he could do.

Inside the OR ante room two scrubs-clad nurses had smilingly stripped Beth of her clothes and helped her into a gown and carefully helped her to lie on her side as the anaesthesiologist pushed his trolley into the room. "Somebody call for an epidural?" he asked cheerfully.

"Ah there you are… now… you may feel a little pinch, but lie still my dear, and in a minute or two you won't be worrying about anything… there, all done. Good girl!"

Beth breathed a sigh of relief as the powerful drug began to take effect, "I wish everyone would stop calling me a good girl," she grumbled, "I'm not ten years old anymore!"

"I should hope not! Not in your condition, anyway!" one of the nurses chuckled as they pushed the gurney into the OR proper where a freshly scrubbed Stephanie Narducci stood with her team, waiting for Beth.

Carefully the nurses manoeuvred Beth onto the operating table and with practiced speed and efficiency rigged the drapes so that while Beth could look up into Stephanie's eyes, she wouldn't be able to see what was happening to her.

Stephanie smiled, "Ready Beth? You might feel some pressure, but you will absolutely not feel any pain. Okay?"

Beth nodded; suddenly her mouth was too dry to speak.

"All right boys and girls," Stephanie spoke to her team, "Let's do this! I want one minute from skin to baby! Mark the time!" and brought the scalpel down onto Beth's swollen stomach.

**Friday April 19****th****, 2002  
1759hrs EST  
OB/Gyn Department  
National Naval Medical Centre  
Bethesda, MD  
(192259ZApr02)**

Stephanie Narducci stripped off her gloves and mask and smiled a huge beaming smile as Beth was transferred back onto the gurney and then rolled out of the OR. Then with a smile of anticipation she walked out into the waiting area where Harm and Deniz leaped to their feet.

"Doctor…?" Deniz began.

"Everything's fine! Everything went well. Beth's in recovery getting cleaned up and her son is getting checked at NNICU… just as a precaution. The main danger for babies delivered early is that their lungs aren't fully developed, but from hearing his squalls of outrage at being plucked from his mommy's womb, I don't think there's anything there to worry about. Give us five minutes and I'll get one of the nurses to take you to see Beth as soon as she's ready."

Deniz Hawkes nodded, smiling even as the tears ran down her face, "Thank you doctor, thank you so much."

Stephanie smiled and as Harm led Deniz back to their chairs, she turned to the nurse behind the desk, "God it's at times like these, I love my job!"

It was nearly an hour before an increasingly anxious Harm and Deniz were led into the room where Beth lay back against the pillows, a blue wrapped bundle lying on the bed next to her. She was still under the influence of the drugs she had been administered and was able to greet them with a smile, "Hi Mom, hi Harm…"

""Sweetheart…" was about all Deniz could manage as she leaned over the bed and gave her youngest daughter a warm kiss.

"Bravo Zulu, Skates! The girl done good!" Harm said in an effort to conceal his emotions.

"Oh no, shyster, you ain't getting away with that!" Beth protested. "I figure after putting up with you all these months, I deserve a kiss!"

Uncomfortably self-conscious and fully aware of Deniz's presence the other side of the bed, Harm leaned in and aimed a gentle kiss at Beth's cheek, but she was too quick for him and turned her head a fraction so for the couple of seconds the kiss lasted he felt the pressure of warm lips on his.

As he stood, breaking the kiss, he thought for an instant, that he saw something on Beth's eyes that he had never seen before, but when he blinked he saw that she was now looking at him rather quizzically. Feeling slightly troubled by the kiss, he indicated the blue blanket and said, "Well, aren't you going to introduce us?"

"Of course, I was just waiting to be asked," Beth said with immense dignity, belied by the gleam in her eye, "Mom, Harm, I'd like you to meet Jason Mitchell, Junior. Eight pounds one ounce, twenty inches long at birth, with all ten fingers and toes and other appendages in place!"

"No middle name?" Deniz asked in surprise.

Beth shook her head, "No… Jason never had one… so…"

Deniz nodded in understanding but before anything else could be said, a nurse stuck her head around the door, "I'm sorry, you're going to have to leave now and let mommy and baby get some rest.. And we may have to give mommy a hand with feeding; the incision is going make things a little more awkward. But you can come back tomorrow. Visiting times are fourteen hundred through fifteen thirty and nineteen hundred through twenty thirty, but no more than two visitors at a time, okay?" she smiled at them in that professional yet unyielding manner that nurses have brought to perfection and stood by the door, making sure that Deniz and Harm realised that she wasn't going to move until they had left.

Once out in the hallway, Deniz and Harm shared a smile of relief, "Let me take you to get something to eat," Harm suggested. "You've cooked five nights out of seven for all the time you've been here, so my treat?"

Deniz smiled, "That's very kind of you Harm, and as I don't feel like cooking this evening, I accept with thanks. Where were you thinking…? Oh… doctor!"

Stephanie Narducci, now in fresh clean scrubs turned, "Yes? Happy now?" she asked with a smile.

"How long will Beth be staying here?" Deniz asked.

"A few days. Not only will she be extremely tired and sore and will need at least a couple of days to rest up, but we used staples to close the incision and it depends on how quickly she heals, but about a week is average before we consider removing the staples, and then we'll want to be sure that she has clear urine, with no traces of blood in it before we take the catheter out.…"

"Yes, that's fine, I just wanted to know for when my husband comes rushing up from Florida, and the baby's other grandparents have to come in from South Dakota… It might take the pressure off them to know they have a couple of days."

**Sunday April 21****st****, 2002  
1442hrs EST  
OB/Gyn Department  
National Naval Medical Centre  
Bethesda, MD  
(211942ZApr02)**

Harm knocked on the door jamb to Beth's room and quietly called out his customary "Man on Deck!"

Beth chuckled and then winced as her stitches pulled, "Ooh… Harm, don't make me laugh!"

"No, okay, I won't," Harm promised as he walked into the room and stopped in his tracks when he saw that Beth had other visitors. Visitors whom he recognised from the wedding breakfast as Jason's parents.

Before he could say a word Jason's father stood to greet him, offering his hand, "So you're the young man who's been helping Elizabeth all these months? It is a pleasure, a real pleasure to meet you, Commander Rabb isn't it?"

"Yes, sir." Harm said juggling the package he held into his left hand and holding it against his chest.

"Forget about, 'sir' son, I'm Jack Mitchell, and…" he turned to the woman still sitting next to Beth's bed, "my wife Susannah. We just want to say how very grateful we are for the care you've taken of Elizabeth since she came ashore…"

Harm looked earnestly at the tall, grey haired man and then at his wife. Both were conservatively and neatly dressed, both in their mid to late fifties, grey-haired and lean with the deeply tanned faces that only come from long hours spent working outdoors in all kinds of weather, and the warm glow in Jack Mitchell's eyes and the smile in his wife's suggested that they really did feel grateful to Harm, a suggestion that was fortified by the hint of a western drawl in Jack Mitchell's speech.

"I'm just glad that Beth thought so much of me that it was me she turned to for help. I won't say it was all plain sailing – she's got a shocking temper, you know – but on the whole, it was my pleasure and my privilege to help her." While he spoke his eyes drifted to Beth's face, his smile negating the indignation she felt at being described as having a bad temper, and she smiled back.

"The fights weren't all my fault," she reminded him quietly.

"Um, no… maybe not…" Harm agreed, "But I didn't come here to pick any sort of fight with you today. I came to see this little guy!" Harm said as he moved towards the clear, plastic hospital bassinet that stood next to the bed, where Jason Mitchell junior lay with his tiny fists clenched and his eye screwed shut.

"Hey big feller, you just wait until you wake-up and see what Harm's brought you," he said, sliding a box out if the large brown paper bag he had tucked under his arm.

"Harm, what have bought?" Beth asked, torn between gratitude and suspicion.

"Just what every baby should have!" Harm replied defensively, "Nothing to get het up about, just a teddy bear." He said as he opened the box to reveal the results of yesterday's foray into the local Build a Bear franchise. A Teddy Bear it was, nearly two feet tall and dressed in a naval officer's service dress blues, and complete with a pair of gold wings on the breast of his jacket.

Beth gave a little crow of laughter, and once again winced in pain, holding up a hand in a 'halt' sign as the three visitors turned alarmed faces towards her. "It's okay… I'm okay… just pulling on the stitches again, but Harmon Rabb, I told you not to make me laugh… What were you thinking, that bear's bigger than he is! And… and…" she peered closely at the wings," those are aviator's wings!" she finished indignantly.

"Yep, he'll grow into it," Harm grinned, "and as for the wings? Nothing but the best for Jason Junior!"

Beth was forced to bite her lip in an attempt not to laugh at Harm's smugness, but her eyes were dancing with laughter which slowly faded as Harm and she looked at each other.

In the same instant Jack and Susannah looked at each other as awareness dawned on them. Jack looked grim for a second, while Susannah gave the slightest of shrug and a very slight warning shake of her head.

But before any sort of situation could develop a passing nurse glanced in at the door and then slammed to a stop, doing a classic double take before coming into the room.

"I'm sorry," she said pleasantly, but firmly, "Only two visitors to the patient for the first week after a C-section." She paused as she looked at the three rule-breakers before her eye settled on Harm, "I'm afraid one of you is going to have to leave."

Harm nodded, crossed to the bed and dropped a kiss on Beth's forehead, "I'll go," he said, "With Jason's folks here, you don't need me here. I'll come and see you again tomorrow, Beth."

Beth watched him go, a lump in her throat, "Oh Harm," she whispered, unaware that she was speaking aloud, "I'll always need you."

She was brought back to reality by Susannah clearing her throat. Jason's mother sat down again in the bedside chair and taking Beth's hand in hers, she said gently, "You love him, don't you, child?"

Beth thought about a denial, but there was something in Susannah's eyes… and anyway Jason's parents deserved the truth. "Yes," she said with brimming eyes, "Yes, I do love him… but that doesn't mean I didn't love Jason or that I don't still love him, it's just… just…" Beth made a helpless gesture with her free hand as she became lost for words.

"It's all right, Elizabeth," Jack moved towards the bed, his grey eyes softened, "You're an attractive young woman, with the best part of your life in front of you. We miss Jason too, but life goes on. He knows that and I'm pretty sure he wouldn't want you to go through the rest of your life grieving and alone. This guy, Harm, seems a decent man and if he loves you back, then we can't see any reason that you shouldn't make a fresh start with him, but not just yet maybe, and as long as you can keep us involved in this little guy's life."

Beth's eyes overflowed and the tears ran down her face, "I do love him… but I don't want to be disloyal to Jason, and it doesn't matter, anyway, because he doesn't love me!"

"Oh, Elizabeth! I thought you had to have twenty-twenty vision to fly for the Navy!" Susannah scolded her, "How can you be so blind! Harm is head over heels, totally in love with you. Why Jack and I saw that within the first two minutes he was here today!"

"Really?" Beth asked, her breath catching in her throat.

"Really!" Jack confirmed, his own smile breaking out in response to Beth's dawning but uncertain grin.

**Monday April 22****nd****, 2002  
1903hrs EST  
OB/Gyn Department  
National Naval Medical Centre  
Bethesda, MD  
(211942ZApr02)**

Beth plucked nervously at the coverlet on the bed and for about the twentieth time in less than five minutes looked anxiously at her watch as she waited in hope that Harm would come to visit her and Jason this evening. Last night's visiting hours had been taken up by her own parents and today, again a farewell visit from Jason's parents who needed to get back to their ranch, so Beth having warned her parents off from visiting tonight waited in expectant hopes of a visit from Harm.

Three minutes later her heart gave a leap and smile spread across her face at his call of "Man on Deck!"

"Damn it! I thought I told you not to say that!" Beth protested, "Come on in!"

Harm entered the room his raised eyebrows expressing his surprise at the absence of any other visitors, "I'm not early am I…?" he asked in some confusion. 'No I can't be… there were other visitors making their way to various rooms' he reminded himself.

"No… not early. I asked everyone else to stay away this evening, because there's something we need to talk about."

Harm's shoulders drooped, "Yeah, I guess I could see it coming… now that Jason's here you don't need me as much, so you want me to back off and give you a little more room…"

Beth looked at him incredulously. "You have got to be kidding me, mister! Now that Jason's here I'm going to need you more than ever! And… and that…" she suddenly dropped her yes, colouring faintly, "that's not all. So please, sit down, Harm."

Mystified, Harm lowered himself onto the chair.

Beth's fingers fiddled nervously with the coverlet as she gathered her thoughts. "Harm I want, no I need, an honest answer… no deflections, no obfuscation, no dodging, ducking or weaving, just a plain, honest answer please."

"Of course!" Harm promised.

"Harm, yesterday, Jason's Mom decided that you're in love with me. Is that true?"

Harm crimsoned from his neck to the tip of his ears, and he had to force himself to swallow twice before he could speak and he glared at Beth for putting him on the spot, but a promise was a promise, "Um… Yeah." And once he'd said it he felt as if a weight had been lifted off his shoulders, and with just the shadow of his cocky flyboy grin, he repeated in much more convinced and convincing tones, "Yeah… Beth Hawkes-Mitchell, I love you and I'm in love with you."

"Good!" Beth said with force, a smile of satisfaction breaking out on her face, "Because it just so happens that I'm in love with you, Harmon Rabb! So much for your theory that I don't want you around anymore!"

Harm's grin was now the full one hundred mega-watt version, "Beth Hawkes-Mitchell… right now, if it wasn't for your stitches I reckon I'd just about kiss you half to death!"

Beth hitched herself up in bed and half turned towards Harm, "Well half to death might be a bit much for me right now," she confessed, "But we could maybe try a sampler?"

And they did.

**Friday, July 4****th****, 2004  
1147hrs EDT  
Falls Church City Park  
Falls Church, VA  
041547ZJul03**

Legalman Two Jennifer Coates bit her lip and narrowed her eyes as the ball came hurtling towards her. Judging her swing to a nicety she struck, sending the ball skywards and way into the outfield.

Two of the out-fielders, their eyes fixed on the flying ball, and each ignorant of the other's approach ran to the 'Point Option', the invisibly marked point in the outfield where ball and fielders would all inevitably arrive.

Beth grimaced and buried her head in Harm's shoulder, "I can't watch!" she whimpered, but then sat up a wicked grin of anticipation on her face, "The hell I can't!"

David Tuna Medwick only became aware of the proximity of Dalton Boomer Jonas, when the bulkier RIO smashed into him and sent them both flying, while the ball landed some six feet away and gently trundled to a stop.

The families and supporters of both teams collapsed into helpless laughter, which only redoubled when Harm took enough breath to call out. "Hey Tuna, one of you should have called the ball!"

Commander (Chaplain) Davies RN, the day's umpire grinned and looked at the scoreboard. "Game over!" he yelled in his lilting Welsh accent, "The scores tied at three and three!"

"Good!" Admiral Chegwidden grunted, and turned to shake hands with Captain Loftness, the newly appointed CAG of the Patrick Henry, whose Raptors Squadron had provided the other team for the annual JAG July 4th softball game.

The game over, Harriet Sims from behind the trestle table groaning under the weight of plates and dishes of food called everyone to eat. Harm watched with a smile as Beth bent to recover Jason from the plaid picnic blanket where he and eighteen-month old Theresa 'Terri' Medwick had been lying under the watchful eye of eleven-year-old Dar Lin Mattoni while Beth and a second time around noticeably pregnant Loren Singer-Medwick kept a discreet overwatch.

Finally when everybody's plates were loaded with food, Chaplain Davies called for a short silence, while he said the short, Royal Navy prayer before meals.

For twenty minutes or so there was a buzz of quiet conversation as everyone paid serious attention to what was on their plates, especially the members of the Raptors, who were relishing the taste of fresh food after an eight month deployment. But finally, as the mutter of conversation began to rise to a new level, Beth nudged Harm in the ribs, "Well?" she demanded with a raised eyebrow.

Harm nodded, "Now's about the best time," he agreed wryly, "So prepare to repel boarders!"

"Go on, it won't be that bad," Beth chuckled, as she held her squirming toddler firmly on her knee while trying to wipe pureed sweet corn off his face.

Harm rose to his feet, "Can I have everyone's attention, please?" he called out, but to absolutely no effect. Drawing a deep breath he cocked an exasperated eyebrow at Beth and tried again.

"Attention on deck!"

Discipline kicked in and the service members froze, while their partners and families looked on with interest. This wasn't a usual part of Independence Day celebrations.

"Thank you," Harm began. "I have a rather important announcement to make. Yesterday, Lieutenant Hawkes-Mitchell received notification of her promotion to Lieutenant Commander, which takes effect from midnight Sunday." Harm paused to allow for a round of applause, cheers and shouts of congratulations, while Beth pinkened with pleasure.

"So…" Harm continued once the hubbub had died away, "to mark the event, I took the Lieutenant out to dinner last night." He allowed another pause for laughter, most of JAG and a goodly number of the Raptors (thanks to Loren and Tuna) were aware that Harm and Beth had been dating for the past fifteen months. "Anyway, I guess I must have poured her one too many glasses of wine, because when I asked her if she'd marry me, she said 'yes'."

For a split second there was silence, broken only by Loren's "And about damned time!" which drew a chuckle from the crowd.

And then it began.

This time the uproar went on for much longer as, true to Harm's predictions, Beth was swamped by a crowd of excited womenfolk, while he himself had his back enthusiastically pounded and his hand shaken nearly off his arm

"So… what did you say to her Hammer?" Boomer asked.

"Well, I sort of reached out across the table, took hold of her hand, and dropped the ring in it, and then I asked her, 'Are you with me Skates?'. Then she kinda grinned, sniffled and said, 'To hell and back Hammer, to hell and back!'"

"And your response?" Loren grinned.

Harm looked across at Beth; she felt him looking, turned to face him and their eyes met. Only then, and without taking his eyes off Beth, did Harm answer Loren's question, "I said, 'Forever and always'," he replied softly.

Loren glanced at Harriet, whose eyes were brimming with tears for her friends' happiness, and then as if on some sort of unspoken signal each of the Lieutenants took hold of a forearm and raising themselves on tip-toe, and simultaneously bestowed two chaste, congratulatory kisses on his cheeks.

'Now that had been a surprise' Harm told himself. The two blondes had never been friends, but by some strange quirk of fate when a pregnant and depressed Loren had been put ashore from her billet on the _Seahawk_, Harriet had rallied around to offer comfort and moral support to Loren, and by some strange mechanism they had bonded to the extent that when Loren and David had married, Harriet stood with Loren as her maid of honour. Harm grinned as he remembered; an even bigger surprise had been the inclusion of Legalman Two Coates in the wedding party as her former prosecutor's second brides-maid.

Even a bitterly disappointed Sarah MacKenzie, who against all reason had clung to the hope that Harm would eventually 'come to his senses' and come back to her managed a smile and a "congratulations" to both Harm and Beth, but as she stood back, she reflected that not only had Beth 'won' Harm, but that her own stupid behaviour and attitude had as good as driven him away and straight into the petite RIO's arms. She shook her head, marvelling at how stupid she had been. But, as much as she now felt herself to blame she couldn't, just couldn't hang around and watch Harm marry Beth. With a sigh she recalled that a vacancy for an O-5 had just opened up at TSO Whidbey Island in Washington State. She nodded her head; it wasn't as prestigious a post as JAG HQ in DC, and she'd be XO to the four ringer in command instead of being in command herself, but it was as good a place as any to wait out her twenty, after all, with this last year's fit-rep in her SRB she'd be most unlikely to ever see another promotion, so eventually she'd run afoul of the 'up or out' regulations, and it would be far better, or at least she would feel far better if her retirement at least appeared to be her decision. Yes, Monday morning she'd submit her application for a PCS to Whidbey Island to the Admiral.

**The End**


End file.
